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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354335">Mirage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoiledAmbrosia/pseuds/SpoiledAmbrosia'>SpoiledAmbrosia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Come Inflation, Double Penetration, Excessive Come, Frottage, Growth, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Size Difference, Size Kink, Transformation, Wet &amp; Messy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:09:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoiledAmbrosia/pseuds/SpoiledAmbrosia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An artist has a chance encounter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Argos/Argus/Bulda, Bulda/Serces</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Serces belongs to @diicedd on twitter so if you want more serces zoom over there</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>satyr concept comes from diicedd on twitter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Bulda supposed it was called the </span><em><span>Horned</span></em> <em><span>Desert</span></em><span> for a reason, though he never imagined it’d be so literal; massive, curved spires erupted across sandy dunes, solid enough to not move when the dry winds raked over them. They made for adequate shade when the sun’s light grew too hot over Bulda’s head, and in the shade he’d settled, brushes and ink bottles stuck in the sand to his side and journal wide open. The pages told his tale, his trek through the desert, illustrating his findings as best he could. It wasn’t like there was much else to do. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a place so unexplored, Bulda was finding the place to be dull. The mystery of the desert had him expecting more, more than what was revealed from the name alone. He could blame no one but himself; It’d been his own idea to venture into the desert, it’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> who’d thought it’d be wise or even brave to discover what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> there. It was a strange place, there had to be more - something he wasn’t seeing, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The itch of his sweat beading up over his forehead had him squirming under his robes, scarves only doing so much to soak up the heat. It was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>desert</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all. In his journal, Bulda’s copper gaze was focused on perfecting the slight curve of his drawn horns. He was, if nothing else, a perfectionist; just a few more strokes </span>
  <em>
    <span>and -</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s breath came out all at once, hot and burning in his chest. “There we are,” He held his journal off his lap, smiling brightly at the very accurate drawing of the horns sprouting from the dark smear of ink, an off-color impression of the sand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Perfect.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda carefully laid his journal facing the sun, allowing the ink to dry. In the meantime, Bulda let his head rest against the shade-giving horn, eyes shutting and gritty hand rubbing over his dripping forehead. The thickest of drops fell into the curls of his beard, neck growing wet, breath warm and lips almost cracking. Bulda’s tongue rubbed over them, spit thick in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stars above, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda complained aloud, stretching out his legs in the offending sunshine, feeling no relief. The sun was inescapable, even the shade of the horns were fleeting, shadows moving and the sun welcomed to bake him alive once more. Bulda’s hands gripped his scarves, not a moment wasted before he pulled the coiling fabric up and away, throwing it into a pile next to his journal. The desert air blew over as a feverish, harsh wind, Bulda’s eyes shutting lest he suffer the pain of sand in his eyes. His hair rippled in the wind, chestnut locks falling in thick curls over his sweaty neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, Gods, that’s better.” Bulda took a second to appreciate the touch of air, no matter how hot and course it might’ve been, it was a welcome improvement. Slicked by sweat, Bulda wiped the coils sticking to his forehead back, fingers scrubbing through the softened hair of his beard. His fingers trailed down his neck, the few days old stubble coming back. Already damp from the pour of his sweat, Bulda’s hands were already undoing the buttons keeping his robe up, detaching the creamy material and throwing it to join his scarves in their mound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s chest grew full with his deep breath, wind dancing in the thick trail of hair running down from his round pectorals. His muscles stood out against his sun-kissed and warm flesh, the odd freckle and even rarer mole at the deep slope of his hip. Bulda adjusted against the horn, letting his legs stretch out further, abs flexing with the motion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept a hand behind him to support his weight, bicep twitching and swelling under the stress. Bulda felt his face growing hot at the pungent flare of his own musk, the heat leaving him smelling ripe. His armpits were full of hair, pits wet with the source of his stink. Bulda took slow, careful breaths, the heady smell of himself working a fire up inside of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s free hand curled around a pec, thumb pressing into his perky nipple, breath slipping into his lungs as a pleased gasp. Bulda got a firmer grip, thumb working into his nipple harder, the resulting flush of heat under his skin making him feel like he was about to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ignite.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda let go his teased chest, nipple popping back out in a hard jut, a shivering breath worked up and out of him as he let his hand run lower. Bulda’s fingers rolled over the bumps of his abs, slowing to a stop at the twisted knot keeping his pants up. “I guess it </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> been a while...” Bulda gave a look out, around, and behind him; it was a childish gesture, like he was going to be interrupted out </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda pulled a part of the knot, watching with a nervous anticipation as his hairy burst popped into the open, fat base of his cock pulsing over with thick veins. Bulda shoved himself onto his knees with his bracing hand, sitting back on his feet and shoving his pants down to his thighs in a practiced movement. Bulda’s face burned dark at his throbbing arousal; it was thick, Bulda had always been proud that he himself had to use both of his hands to properly grip it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands spread out over it, his girth nearly matched by just how far it stuck out, bulbous head smacking between the space of his knees. Veins stuck out against the thin flesh, pump of overheated blood making his cock jump with each heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda stuck a hand low, gathering his full sack in one hand, the engorged swell of his balls spilling out the sides of his hands. Above, Bulda took hold of his cock by the underside, the slow drag from shaft to tip getting the first drop of pre to his cockhead. Bulda squeezed around his cock at the same time he took a handful of his balls, the simultaneous grip working a heart pump of pre up his throbbing cock, the clear gush smeared into a sticky lube around his cockhead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting go his balls, Bulda wrapped both hands around his spitting cock, hips moving in a jerky rhythm, fucking into his tacky palms until they </span>
  <em>
    <span>crackled</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>smacked </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the near-constant flow of pre running out of him. “Oh, Gods, oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He was close, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> close. Bulda could feel his orgasm building, a culmination of heat and pressure at the base of his cock, balls growing heavier and heavier with each vigorous stroke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes shut and wrinkled, face seized in a mask of release, teeth baring and cock feeling like it was about to blow. He was right on the edge, all he needed was a touch to go off. Bulda finished himself off with a proper slam of his hips, burying as much of his cock as he could in his wet grips. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda’s air was lost to him, breath leaving him in a wheeze as he finally came. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Orgasm hit in a brilliance, like pure sex had been dropped into his blood, his heart pumping the throes of pleasure to every inch of him. Liquid fire boiled deep within him, internal systems pumping and pumping before- White gushed out around Bulda’s fingers, a solid jet of cum shooting from his inflated cockhead, nearly purple with blood and firing another stream from the jumping shaft. Bulda’s mouth hung open, lungs aching for breath, body racked with the force of orgasm, every stream looking as full as the last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda worked his shaft hard as he came, cum landing over the sand in gritty ropes, huffing and puffing with his tongue hanging from his mouth as the crest of his orgasm finally hit, his hands remaining on his cock as his load ebbed into an idle leak. Bulda shook the strings of cum off his dick, making a face at the mess covering his hand and cock. “Gods above…” Bulda muttered, fingers hooking around his dripping cockhead and tugging away, an oozing slug of white pooling around his fingers. “Worth the mess, I really needed th-</span>
  <em>
    <span>aah!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes came fully open and landed on a -</span>
  <em>
    <span> thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not far from him. Bulda’s face warmed incredibly, the heat of his flush spilling down to the rise and fall of his chest, cock out and hand - it was a compromising position to be in, to put it gently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing was unmistakably a living one, how he’d managed to miss it was beyond him, but he had a habit of getting a bit too involved in his fantasies. He hadn’t expected company, let alone an audience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked tall, leagues taller than anyone Bulda knew of; his village was small, familial. If someone had followed him, he would’ve known, recognized them. There was nothing about the person Bulda was able to distinguish; the mask they wore made sure of that, an expression on the mask that him cowering. A wide-eyed face with gnashing teeth leered down at Bulda, the bushy hair framing their head a peppery red, furred ears pointing off the sides of their head. Horns stood out against their head, straight out. Bulda noticed the tint of their skin, a dark and weathered off-grey over a frame that looked powerful. A poncho hung by their shoulders, stitching over their chest in strange embellishments, hem decorated with hanging tassels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda was painfully aware of the cum still dripping off his hands. A horribly forced, nervous laugh tore from his lips. “H-hey! Wasn’t expecting anyone around...doing alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The person didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s forehead felt wet again, for reasons other than the heat. He made a move to adjust how he was sitting, hand fully coated with his seed, cock bobbing and sending a fissure of bashfulness through Bulda. “Could I- </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> I help you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The figure stared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda wobbled on his feet, cock starting to droop under his nerves. “Look, I-I know this looks bad, but I-” was horny? There wasn’t anything he could say that wasn’t already obvious. “Just let me clean up and-” Bulda’s eyes couldn’t pick up on just...what happened next. The air around him shimmered, an alien sensation crawling over his skin, then the figure was a step away from him. Bulda gave a shout, pants catching around his knees and falling backwards, back feeling burned from the touch of hot sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes went wide, the size of them almost matching the eyes on the person’s mask, now standing right above him, just how different they were in size coming as a sneaking realization for Bulda. For the first time, he noticed the person’s legs, a coat of fur and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hooves </span>
  </em>
  <span>capping off their legs. The thought that he’d come across a very strange satyr was somehow less of a shock He was more or less between the person’s legs, the folds of their poncho rippling over him, still just staring down and not moving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda gulped, chest shivering from the first snag of fear. “Listen, I don’t…” A stir beneath the poncho had Bulda’s words withering over his tongue, an unmissable bounce of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> right next to his face. Bulda’s eyes flashed up, wide eyes blankly meeting his gaze. Bulda’s throat dipped, mouth feeling dry even after swallowing. “Uh, like what you saw or what?” Bulda’s eyes snapped back to the leap of activity in front of him, actually jumping when the stranger made a move to lift his poncho. Bulda watched with the utmost attention, heat of his flush darkening his freckled cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poncho pulled away from furred thighs with a warm, spicy musk, Bulda’s eyes going to the full and writhing loincloth filling the space. Bulda’s hands gave a quick wipe over his pants, ignoring the mess he transferred, eyes flickering between the mask and the bulge. “Hey, you good with this? Not exactly a mind reader,” Bulda asked, keeping his eyes on the still mask. Bulda’s stomach unfurled when he got a nod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda voiced for the both of them, hands going to the strings keeping the loincloth in place, heart pounding an invigorated rhythm in his ribs. “First time doing something like this, so be patient with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The loincloth slipped down, Bulda’s fingers dragging through short fur and breathing in the pungent musk of the stranger by the lungful. He had to bite his lip at the curls around the fattening cock, the loincloth revealing more and more of the impressive length, Bulda’s eyes telling everything his mouth was too gaped to say. “Stars </span>
  <em>
    <span>above,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he gasped, gaze trailing back the tight muscles to that ever-still mask. “You’ve got a real monster, you know that?” He’d stopped expecting the satyr to say anything, but the visible flex of his abs and jump of his enormous cock was the most Bulda had seen out of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda couldn’t help the cheeky smile on his face, taking the bouncing length in his hands, mouthing a ‘wow’ at the weight of it. “Gods, this is…” Bulda’s mouth was too dry to water, but that didn’t stop the pulse and slow dribble of pre at his cockhead. It jumped between his legs, Bulda squeezing his thighs together to get some kind of pressure on it, expression softening with the gush of pre and wet pleasure of shifting his thighs around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s grip on the satyr’s cock was firm, quite like how he took hold of his own member, only reversed. It was a bit strange, essentially jerking off in the opposite direction, but it got him a beading amount of pre. Below the leaking cock, the satyr’s balls hung unattended; Bulda split his hands between the two, a firm grip on the heavy, furred sack. Bulda’s eyes fell over the show of the satyr’s balls pulling high in their sack, falling down under their immense weight, just one more than enough to completely fill Bulda’s palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda breathed over the swollen cockhead, a steady flow of pre oozing from the gaping silt, a minute shiver taking hold of the satyr’s body. Bulda beamed up at the satyr’s mask, pleased to hear panting going on behind that formerly scary face. “Feels good, huh? Want more?” Bulda only had to wait a second for a response, the mask going up and down as the satyr gave another nod. Bulda’s heart grew hot in his chest, blinking down the shaft in his hands, not entirely sure how to go about what he had in mind. “Okay, this is going to feel weird.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Licking his lips, Bulda let his mouth yawn open, brow coming together in a concerned furrow when the cockhead of the satyr swelled. It looked daunting, but Bulda was no coward. He stretched his jaws wide, tucking his teeth over the sharpest of his teeth, tongue stuck out and flexing until - Bulda’s taste buds had very little to associate with the taste of satyr cock, if he were to assign a general flavor, it’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>zesty.</span>
  </em>
  <span> From down between the satyr’s legs, the uniquely biting aroma of his musk closely fit the taste swirling about Bulda’s tongue. He’d only licked the tip, getting a bubbling trail of pre over his tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda shut his mouth, lips curling over the slimy taste on his tongue. He swallowed, adjusting his grip on the satyr's dick, thumb working the thick tunnel of his urethra. A bubble of pre emerged at the wet cockhead, Bulda was quick to lap it up, mouth wrinkling around the strong taste. “Hang on, I’ll try again.” Bulda opened his mouth wide, careful of his teeth as he went in again, cringing involuntarily at the heavy press of the cockhead on his tongue. Bulda’s knees shifted over the sand, wiggling around his pre-slick cock, breath rolling as hot puffs over the mammoth cockhead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods, you’re huge,” Bulda idly mentioned, lips close enough to feel the heat of the cock, an eager jump of the satyr’s cock whipping a string of precum over his face. Bulda’s eyes squinted, the thick rope of pre holding firmly onto his face. “Excited? Barely touched you…” Bulda went in again, lips stretching around it’s girth, Bulda making a worried noise high in his throat when that stretch didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Neither did he; Bulda ignored the tension in his jaw when he felt that massive cockhead just pop behind his teeth, tongue flattened and precum left to drain into his mouth. Bulda swallowed when he felt the excess start to pool around his gums, a thick gulp necessary to get the watery mixture down. Bulda fought to free his tongue, lashing it around the fat cockhead, a fervor of heat winding up his chest when the satyr gave a </span>
  <em>
    <span>grunt. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s jaw felt toyed with, stretched and still made to work around the beast of a dick. He took more into his mouth, the cockhead bumping over his tongue, delicately tasting the open silt giving him a mouthful of pre. Bulda’s breath rattled in his chest when the cockhead slowly began pushing up to his throat, a second-short gag more out of reflex than difficulty. Bulda took a pause, relaxing his throat, and pushed on. His breath puffed through his nose over the remaining length protruding from his mouth, Bulda watching the pulse of veins flare at the same time as the cockhead easing into his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda choked when a heavy hand grabbed him by the skull, feeling like it was going to squeeze, and it did - gently. Bulda’s eyes looked up, the hand’s presence on his head firm, not guiding. Bulda’s heart gave a flit when the satyr’s fingers dug through his hair, gentle even with that, deep and deliberate breaths from under his mask. Bulda swore the cock was filling his throat, not even the smallest amount of precum coming back up, breath all but cut off by its girth. Bulda pulled off, eyes wincing shut at the bizarre pull of flesh in his throat, cock dragging wetly out of his mouth. Bulda leaned his head back, the satyr’s hand on his head gripping tightly for all of a second, Bulda’s mouth coming away as a thoroughly slimed gape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda took the barest of seconds to catch his breath before he dove back, cock swallowed up without issue, tongue wrapping itself around the ballooning head and getting a copious stream of precum for his efforts. Bulda swallowed it, head plunging back down, the sticky band of saliva and pre on the satyr’s cock disappearing back down his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr’s chest heaved, Bulda hearing just how hard his breathing had become, grunts and groans kept quiet. They got much louder once Bulda got his hands on his balls again, the swollen nads taken in both hands while his mouth was busy on the satyr’s cock. With each solid squeeze of the plump testicles, Bulda was gifted with a long, gummy mouthful of precum. He swallowed as much as he could, as fast as he could, but the satyr’s emission was beyond anything he could contain in his chest. It gushed freely from Bulda’s mouth, the squelching slide of his throat over the cock letting missed pre spill past his lips, catching in his beard and trailing down his neck. It splattered far down, the bubbling, frothy mess dripping over Bulda’s own neglected cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s world fell into one of darkness and sensation when the satyr let go of his poncho, taking Bulda’s head in mouth hands - still not brave enough to guide him. If he was more comfortable just holding him, that was fine, Bulda could take care of the rest. Bulda’s senses were bathed in the warm musk of the satyr, the scalding taste of him down his throat, the fuzzy balls held in his hands - the satyr gave a warning grumble around his huffing, Bulda knowing what came next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda could feel it before it hit, nose burying into a sweaty nest of pubes, the satyr’s cock swelling until it felt like it’d become stuck in his throat. The satyr’s balls clenched high in their sack, Bulda almost hearing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>pump, pump, pump </span>
  </em>
  <span>of seed before it gushed down his throat. It was too far to taste, but Bulda could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it; a hot, seemingly endless bursts of cum fed him directly, his stomach growing hot and then turning </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>when the flow didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>end</span>
  </em>
  <span>, only kept going. Bulda gulped, swallowed, tried to keep his throat working around the cock filling him from lips to belly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Above him, the satyr’s silence was broken by his fiercious groans, grip on Bulda’s head keeping him pinned to the very root of his shooting cock. Bulda was made aware of a very odd</span>
  <em>
    <span> glug, glug</span>
  </em>
  <span> coming from below him, his concerns made into shock when he felt over his abdomen and could feel them </span>
  <em>
    <span>stretching</span>
  </em>
  <span> out under the satyr’s load. Bulda’s head swam with the heat of </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his core temperature hiking with each gushing fill from the satyr’s cock, hands curling around his growing middle trying their best to work out the pangs of discomfort sparking over its tightening flesh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda drank, and the satyr kept filling him, his belly stretched out warm and heavy over his thighs. He thought he’d burst before the satyr was satisfied, Bulda morbidly noted how impressive that would be. Luckily, no such death by virility was his fate. Bulda slowly swam back into his senses, feeling the gushes down his throat calm, leaving him nearly gravid with the finished load. Bulda’s throat was lax around the satyr’s cock, Bulda blinking in the darkness until the satyr’s steps took it away, a bubbling wash of cum rising up behind the deflating cockhead when it pulled free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda hiccuped, the taste of the satyr’s cock and cum on his tongue. His hands went to his stomach, Bulda’s eyes growing wide with the sight of himself. He was huge, flesh stretched to what should’ve been its limit, and yet he stood - sat in one piece. A thick burp worked up his throat, Bulda felt no shame about letting his out. He cleared his throat with a swallow before he spoke, hands tracing the bloated sheen of his stomach with due care. “G-Gods, this is all - you?” It didn’t seem impossible, and yet. Bulda’s cock jumped below the ridiculous curve of his gut, slapping the underside with a messy shot of precum.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr had - very little to say, as expected. However, his body language had changed radically; little huffs came from behind his mask, Bulda felt watched even so. “You’re an odd fellow, aren’t you?” Again, nothing. Bulda’s expression grew warm, sun helping with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr’s mask faced the ground, Bulda following the eyes’ to his journal, forgotten and thankfully unmarred. The satyr crouched, fingers touching the dried ink, head raising to take in the sight of the horn giving the two of them shade. The satyr looked back to Bulda, head cocking silently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda blinked, mind working in slow motion. “Oh, my drawing? It’s of these weird horns, thought I should get it down.” Bulda pulled his pants up, tucking his leaking, softening cock back into the folds. He wouldn’t bother with his other clothes, nothing but his scarves would fit. Bulda wiped the mess away from his mouth, unable to do much about the amount that pooled into his beard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr flipped backwards in his journal, head cocking in interesting ways at the illustrations. Bulda spat a wad of cum at the sand, clearing his throat a bit. “Hey, you wouldn’t know anything about this place, would you?” The satyr looked up from his journal, a long pause connecting the answer: a slow, but sure nod. Bulda’s face lit up, eyes huge and glinting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do you know what these things are?” Bulda pointed up to the towering horn, the satyr following his finger. Mask once again facing Bulda, the satyr’s arms rose from the folds of his poncho, hands coming together to make a strange gesture. Bulda was baffled, his head turning curiously. “What’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> that?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Again, the satyr made the gesture: he grabbed one of his wrists, fingers tucked into a bunch, then he rose his hand up, fingers splaying out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda took a second to think, copying the gesture - </span>
  <em>
    <span>badly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if the satyr’s reaction was anything to go by. Again, he tried it, still not understanding, but at least it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Okay, that’s-” Bulda did the gesture, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> it meant. “So, who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?” </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr paused again, one of his arms falling back into his poncho as his free hand made a series of shapes. Bulda blinked, shaking his head, squinting at the satyr’s fingers. “Uh, run that by me again?” With a huff, the satyr complied, going much slower. Bulda copied while he did, making a note of it. “I’m Bulda, I don’t know how to do- that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr gave a noise like a chuckle, his hand raising up again, fingers - </span>
  <em>
    <span>spelling</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. Careful to pay attention, Bulda repeated the gestures, the satyr then pointed at Bulda. He blinked, and then he got it. “Oh, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>me!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He nodded, doing the gestures to himself, following his fingers. “Okay, so you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He had to put that in his journal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s gut gave a lurch at the move towards his journal, just how pinned he was coming as a sobering reminder. Hands laying on its taut surface, Bulda eyed the satyr, who’d gotten back to just staring at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you want me to blow you again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr’s ears went rigid at that, Bulda giving the jostling bulge at the front of his poncho a knowing glance. As the satyr approached him, Bulda held out a hand, the satyr stopping as still as a statue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just - let me know when you’re about to cum, alright?” Bulda gave a few pats to the side of his belly. “I’m about as full as I can get.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>argos and argus belong to diicedd on twitter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bulda’s head was kept off the warm sand by his own forearm, other hand loosely stroking over his half-hard cock, hips thrusting into his hand by the force of the satyr’s pounding. “Gods, curse it. Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>yet?” Bulda’s eyes rolled in their sockets at the satyr’s frustrated huff, the thrusts feeling that much harder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d been at it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours;</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda could tell by the position of the sun, looking low on the horizon, the sands cooling in the scarlet dusk. In that time, Bulda had been swollen until nearly bursting all again. When his body proved its limits, the satyr simply let Bulda's back take the brunt of his release, soaking him from back to scalp. He couldn’t explain it, not when the satyr’s very nature seemed steeped in mystery, Bulda could only imagine magic was at work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It certainly</span>
  <em>
    <span> felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice, as worried as he was at first. The second time was far more enjoyable, and, yes, it’d been a lapse in his judgement to let the satyr plant his cock in his gullet. He hadn’t burst, however, as much as it looked like he would. The satyr seemed sure enough to have him a third time, then a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fourth</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then - whatever number they were on now, Bulda had stopped counting; the satyr wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stopping</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his releases flowed into each other, a constant pressure easing Bulda bigger with each long plunge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s stomach was round in his hands, caressing the stretching - </span>
  <em>
    <span>stretched</span>
  </em>
  <span> - flesh as another load bloated him, Bulda’s lip tucked into his mouth and bit when his abs disappeared under the hot flood of cum. “Hrm, still so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda panted, teeth gritting when another stream worked into his middle, the satyr’s hips not even stopping anymore. Bulda gaped up at him, mask askew, the open and panting mouth of the satyr just visible in the deep twilight. “How are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>still going?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr seemed content to empty himself again and again into Bulda, feeling over his growing middle, soothing the stretch marks when Bulda inevitably drained during their breaks. It was strange, but Bulda’s thirst had all but vanished, even the sun’s heat wasn’t as bothersome. Bulda felt the heat soaking into him, muscle and bone alike feeling malleable and hot, the satyr’s hands a relatively cool relief over his blazing flesh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda put up no fight when the satyr’s hands came around his torso, rolling him on his side with the enormous cock twisting its way around inside him, Bulda’s breath leaving him in a great </span>
  <em>
    <span>heave.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stars above.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda’s voice was a breathless </span>
  <em>
    <span>rasp</span>
  </em>
  <span>, insides shifting easily - </span>
  <em>
    <span>painlessly </span>
  </em>
  <span>around the satyr’s cock, walls of his guts feeling alight and sensitive. The frictionless slide of the satyr’s cock felt like it was melting through him, Bulda squirming under the satyr’s hands, a cry quickly building in his ragged throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His cock spat clear ropes over the sand below, bouncing, cockhead a stressed purple and ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>burst</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Bulda felt so strongly he swore he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he didn’t get his release soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m g-</span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda’s words rose high in his throat, eyes whitening out before his vision burst into an array of color, the satyr’s cock pulling out and finding his prostate with a dizzying precision. Bulda’s senses boiled away to heat, a sizzling ache under his skin that boiled down to his loins, feeling fire running through his veins and finally- Bulda’s cock spat its load, his toes and fingers curling in the sand, held firmly on the base of the satyr’s cock as his orgasm rippled through him. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s belly gave a displeased gurgle when the satyr’s thrusts stuttered to a halt, Bulda crying out when the satyr </span>
  <em>
    <span>snapped</span>
  </em>
  <span> forward, liquid warm </span>
  <em>
    <span>gushing</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the folds of his guts and pooling low. Bulda’s hand fell free from his stone hard member to knead into the growing swell of his belly, watching it grow as the satyr’s orgasm crested over him. Bulda could only pant and take it, each heavy pump of the satyr’s jostling balls filling him out, abs stretching tighter and tighter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda writhed on the satyr’s cock, neither of them doing much beyond straining for breath. Bulda’s guts made an ominous noise, liquid weight sloshing and sinking deeper, Bulda feeling heavier and lighter all at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The new space was quickly filled, the satyr’s cock spraying his thick load in sustained jets, Bulda’s belly rounding out on the spurts. “Hrm, I hope you’re done, now” Bulda grumbled, hand smoothing over the hard swell of his gut. “I think I’m gonna - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stars above</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sleep this one off, oof.” Bulda’s belly gave a growing surge, the satyr’s dwindling load filling him to the gills and then some. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Letting out a grunt that sounded sated, the satyr pinned Bulda to his chest with a sturdy arm, leaning backwards and letting gravity take him to the sand, Bulda grunting when they landed. Bulda tried to adjust himself on the satyr’s torso, but the still half-hard cock stuck inside of him made it difficult. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods, are you gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep </span>
  </em>
  <span>me like this?” Bulda muttered while trying to squirm under the satyr’s arm, finding he was effectively trapped with his back to the satyr’s front. The satyr’s cock gave a throb inside of him, Bulda shivering around the length, face heating up from the stimulation. “G-Gods, you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beast.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The satyr settled into silence, Bulda left squirming on his slowly hardening cock, belly growing minutely from the steady flow of precum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda barely remembered sleeping, he just remembered feeling empty.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulda awoke to the moon in his eyes and a chill over his skin. He sat up, and looked around. His clothes were off to the side, and for as far as he could see, he was - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alone,” Bulda sighed, blowing through his lips, hand cradling his chin, his other scratching his flat abs. Curiously, Bulda’s fingers slipped over the curve of his ass, the dried mess of the satyr's cum marking his back. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gross</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he commented, itching at the splatter until it flaked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda stood in the cool night air, naked from head to toe, cock hanging thickly between his legs. Bulda gave an idle scratch to his balls, knocking the grains of sand that had gathered around his thighs. He hiked his arms above his head, stretching until his joints gave a gratifying pop, Bulda groaning from the release of pressure. ‘Gods, that’s good…” Bulda squinted through his squeezed shut eyes, vision blurry, catching a pair of shadows- </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes snapped open, blinking the grogginess away as he stared out into the distance, peering at dune caps and anything that didn’t belong. He found...nothing. If his hands didn’t have sand on them, he would’ve rubbed his eyes to make sure, but sure as the moon was bright, he stood alone among the sand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda looked over the dunes just a while longer before he turned away, shaking his head as he walked over to his pile of clothes. “Desert is playing tricks on me,” he rationalized, bending down and grabbing his shoes, up turning them and dumping the sand out of them. “Sooner I get out of here, the better.” Picking up his pants next, Bulda knocked the sand off them. “Wonder if I’ll see him again…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Bulda thought to himself, a conjoined shadow lurked on a far dune. Still, </span>
  <em>
    <span>watching.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda was dressed before long, adjusting himself through his pants and leaving his scarf around his neck. It was much cooler, now, he didn’t need all the extra layers. Patting his journal in his pocket, Bulda gave himself a final once over, nodding approvingly. “Well, then, back to the village.” He knew the way; Bulda was quite the navigator, and with the stars filling the sky, he’d be home by morning if he didn’t stop to rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Desert satyrs, the elders aren’t going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe</span>
  </em>
  <span> this!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Bulda moved out, on his way back on, the shadows along the dune’s peaks vanished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been walking for ages, or at least it </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt </span>
  </em>
  <span>that way. Bulda yawned into his palm, hugging his arms closer to his body, giving them a quick rub to warm up. Bulda’s mind, ever the traitor, went back to how </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span> that satyr was. It’d been just enough in the hours they spent together, now Bulda was almost aching for that feeling again. He couldn’t help but pout. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why’d he have to leave, this place is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring</span>
  </em>
  <span> alone.” At least with the company of the satyr, he’d have someone to converse with. Bulda figured he could learn the satyr’s language of gestures with enough study, then he could finally understand what it all meant. Bulda mused on it, scratching through his beard in thought. “I wonder…” It’d certainly get the elders’ talking, might’ve even gotten them off their fancy seats long enough to</span>
  <em>
    <span> go</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the desert. There wasn’t a part of Bulda that believed </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>satyr was the only one, they just had to find where they were all living. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It got him thinking, though; just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> the satyrs live? It was hard to fathom he’d only come across the one so far, but maybe territory had something to do with it? Bulda had to curse his luck, scowling at the lost chance of having a knowledgeable satyr as a guide. Bulda snickered at the mental image of the satyr accompanying him back to the village. Gods, the elders would </span>
  <em>
    <span>drop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods, that’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>priceless.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It’d make for one hell of an excuse to why he was out so long. Bulda almost wished he could use it, given how his current one was a lot less believable without the satyr in tow. In any case, he had a journal entry for his troubles and a surprisingly good memory to take away from it all. Not bad, if he said so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His jaw began to stretch from his yawn, Bulda catching it in his fist, a shiver running down his back. “Gods, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Can’t this place make up its mind?” Bulda was no stranger to the extremes of the weather, he’d since made his home among the sands, only in a community and within the shelter of his own home. The elements were markedly harsh when you weren’t a satyr, he supposed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda followed the dunes as they spilled into a fissure in the earth, the smooth wear of sandstone looking all too familiar. “Ah, half-way there, then.” Roughly, anyway; he’d gone along the fissure enough times to know he wasn’t far from home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let his hands pass over the stone as he walked, orange dust catching on his fingertips, watching bugs scatter along the high reaching walls. Glowing, clicking, fidgeting insects roamed the wall, Bulda’s eyes jumping from one colorful shell to the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His journal was in hand within seconds, a rough pencil already starting to sketch. “Hold still, I don’t know what you guys look like yet!” Detail was lost in his sketch, many of his would-be insects looking more like rushed scribbles. Bulda frowned at the page, having half a mind to scrap it. He squinted at the wall, shaking his head with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span> of frustration. “If only I had some more</span>
  <em>
    <span> light.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even the bugs seemed to agree, a quiet clamoring echoing off the polished stone. Bulda watched the bugs scatter, crawling away into hiding holes or flying off into the night. Yet, the sound remained; it was just on the cusp of Bulda’s hearing, a low, continuous fuzz in his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only getting louder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Balda let his eyes travel up the wall, reaching the lip of the overhead cliff and- freezing; the icy rush of terror flooded his veins, Bulda’s eyes locked on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>figures</span>
  </em>
  <span> that leered down at him. Two of them, the cracks between the bodies was revealed by the pale moonlight, Bulda not seeing either one even budge. What he did, however, was an airborne </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>whizzing around the two. Bulda’s eyes briefly followed the thing’s unpredictable flight, the distance too great to make out </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The red of the eyes watching him was unblinking, far up; Bulda could make a break for it, before whatever</span>
  <em>
    <span> those</span>
  </em>
  <span> were ever got down. He almost did, limbs twitching with pent up energy, wanting to run. Bulda fought against his instincts and just narrowly won; you didn’t turn your back on a wild animal, and he wasn’t taking the chance of losing sight of the things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Easy,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda began to back up, eyes never leaving the figures. “Don’t panic, just take it easy.” The attention of the creatures were</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One step at a time, Bulda walked backwards out of the vent, not taking his eyes off the gleaming red until they were a vague dot among the rockface. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Then, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he ran. It didn’t matter where to, just so long as it was away from </span>
  <em>
    <span>there. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sight of the oasis had been a godsend, oddly bare trees framing a sizable body of water, Bulda running until he collapsed at the shallow water’s edge. Bulda’s knees fell deep into the sand, hands following suit and scooping up a handful of cold water and drinking heavily. Bulda drank until his thirst was quenched, wiping away the excess with his sleeve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods above,” he gasped, struggling to breathe through the tremors of his body. Bulda groaned, shaking his leg when the painful grip of a cramp wormed its way into his bones. He breathed through it, not like he had much of a choice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been running for a few solid minutes, scared, unsure of every shadow that was too still for his liking. None of them with a red glare, thankfully. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> those things?” Bulda asked himself, pushing himself back onto his legs, a deep breath filling his lungs and turning to mist in the chilly air. Bulda shook, hands rubbing warming circles over his arms. “Have to keep moving, have to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda took note the presence of a buzz in his ears before he ever even saw the figures, again just </span>
  <em>
    <span>watching</span>
  </em>
  <span> him from afar. The two were on a distant dune, the distance between them great yet again. Bulda swore under his breath at the flicker of red peering at him. "Gods above, what do they </span>
  <em>
    <span>want?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were closer, time this, close enough for Bulda to make out shapes to their figures. The moonlight had turned into an icy backdrop over the sand, painting silhouettes out of the two. Bulda’s eyes narrowed thinly, able to make out a</span>
  <em>
    <span> sphere</span>
  </em>
  <span> bobbing through the air, and even… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>horns?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda remarked, blinking numbly at the recognizable jut of them. “Wait, are those..satyrs?” Bulda got to his feet slowly, taking careful steps towards the shadowy duo, not quite believing his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span> be as friendly as the last one.” It was quiet prayer, but one he hoped someone was listening to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda left the safety of the oasis, stepping back onto dunes and walking towards the two - </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopefully</span>
  </em>
  <span> - satyrs. Bulda’s steps were calculated, keeping the satyrs within sight all the while. “H-hey there! Fancy seeing someone around here!” Bulda knew better than to expect an answer, and he wasn’t close enough to see any gestures they might’ve made; not that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> any, Bulda disgruntled to see that these two were as reserved as the last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys don’t...talk either? That’s fine!” Bulda gave a grunt of effort as his feet dragged through the sand, tired legs feeling heavier in the grains. “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>llllooking</span>
  </em>
  <span> for someone to talk with, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods above.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda was panting before he even got up the dune, the sands just piling up on his legs, the uneven ground made all the more tricky by the constant churn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bulda batted his eyes at the sands, stopping his attempt at climbing to just watch, eyes peeling wider when the dune was visibly pushing against him. His eyes roamed up the cascade of sand, pooling around his feet in a deepening mire. He scratched his head, raking free some of the dried cum clinging to his hair. “What the…” Bulda looked back to the satyrs, not a muscle moved, yet that weird little ball spun frantically over their head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave a bothered huff, pulling with all his might to free his legs, almost losing his balance in the process. “Alright, guess I’ve got an audience again,” he said to himself, turning back to the oasis. “Hope you guys like the show!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling himself free from the shallow quicksand, Bulda loosed his scarf from his neck, taking the time to fold it into a square before throwing it away. Bulda’s hand felt through the tangled mess of his hair, grimacing at the tacky wetness clinging to his scalp. The oasis stole his attention, an idea forming in his head. Bulda gave a sly look over his shoulder, smirking at the satyrs’ continued stillness, eyes following the erratic movements of that strange orb that flew about them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda caught the hasty whirl of the orb when he started to tug his shirt off, a snicker in his throat as he walked towards the oasis’ edge. His shirt fluttered when he left it to the wind, floating onto the sands while Bulda tugged the waist of his pants down, fabric bunching around his ankles and stepping out of them. A brisk gust had goosebumps breaking over Bulda’s skin, shoes kicked off and left along with his clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s toes tested the oasis’ surface, hissing and recoiling at just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was. Bulda chanced a peek over his shoulder: the satyrs were still watching, and he had a little too much pride to back out now. Bulda held his breath as he let his feet sink in, cold piercing through his skin and hitting his bones with a shocking impact, next foot promptly stuck into the icy water. Bulda wheezed through his teeth as his legs joined in, bracing himself and refraining from </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the tip of his member dipped under, balls drawing up tight against the base of his shaft. Bulda was hissing by the time his hips sunk in, glassy surface hiding just how deep it was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so much for the hard part,” Bulda murmured to himself, eyes reaching their corners to check - yep, they were still watching. Bulda let out a shuddering chuckle, cold rattling through his bones. He’d be a</span>
  <em>
    <span> lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>warmer soon if all went according to plan. Bulda took a breath, and disappeared under the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bubbles formed at his mouth at the gasp he let out, getting a mouthful of water and a burning trail up his nose. Bulda scrubbed over his face, fingers running roughly through his hair, fighting the groan of satisfaction when the stickiness began to dissolve. Bulda’s head broke the water, taking a heaving breath and dunking back under. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a proper bath, but it’d get the itch off him. Bulda’s hands were the only tools he had, but he made due. Bulda scrubbed through his beard and felt cleaner with the aftermath of the satyr finally gone, hands running down his neck and feeling over the hard perk of his nipples, pleased bubbles foaming at his lips. Bulda’s hand felt over his cock, squeezing the warming length tenderly, skin stiffening over the pulse of veins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s head breached the water, dripping curls covering his eyes, skin around them wrinkling with his unseen smile. The satyrs had came off their dune, </span>
  <em>
    <span>closer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but not close enough. He could fix that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda rose up in the water, chest exposed to the chill of the night air, an eager heat building in his cheeks under the watchful gaze of the satyrs. Bulda’s lips curled when his hands slipped past the swell of his taint, cold fingers spreading his cheeks and slipping easily into his hole. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mrf,</span>
  </em>
  <span> hey there!” Bulda’s pulse quickened in his chest, a needy throb making his cock jump in his hand. “Been a hot day, want to join me for a dip?” Bulda’s teeth were on display when his fingers parted his hole, the cold rush of water over his hot folds driving a shiver up his spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, yeah. Come on, guys,” Bulda muttered, eyes closing as he pushed back on his fingers, crawling up his ass but not hitting that spot that was just out of reach. “Water’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda took to standing, letting an eye crack open to watch the satyrs, heat spreading through his veins flowing south. Bulda’s cock gave a wet slap against his abs when his fingers jabbed deeper, a groan rolling out into a puff of steam. “Gods, that’s-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not the same. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s mouth quirked into a smile at the slow build of buzz in his ears, letting his eyes close and just listen to it as it got louder and louder. Soon, the sound of footsteps and a quiet splash had him looking, Bulda’s cock throbbing at the satyrs standing at the edge of the water. Bulda gave a suggestive look to the twin bulges at their fronts, the yogas they were doing nothing to hide their endowments. Bulda’s fingers curled up inside him, cock jumping and flinging a string of pre up his torso. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Heyyy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, glad to see you guys,” he mumbled, hand slowly working his length to full hardness. “Up close, anyway.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two satyrs were remarkably similar; Bulda found himself admiring them both as his eyes locked onto that peculiar orb of theirs, a gray glassy thing that was looping around them, weaving between the limited space that separated them. Even their masks were the same: three slits were cut out, their eyes - just as red as Bulda thought - staring through two of them. A chunk sat in the middle of the masks, forming a faceted nose. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>identical,</span>
  </em>
  <span> up to their red hair that was close around their heads and down to the neglected bulges between their legs. Bulda had to stop watching their orb, it was making him dizzy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A fat drop of pre leaked from the tip of his cock, Bulda’s fingers making a tight ring around his shaft, slowly easing the flow out, dripping onto the rippling water. “So, what’s it gonna be? Wanna have a go my with my hands?” Bulda made a lewd jerking gesture with his free hand, watching the orb spin into a blur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell you two the truth, I’ve got something else I want,” Bulda turned in the water, giving the satyrs a good view of his ass. “Up for it?” Bulda watched the orb give an excited spin, Bulda cracking a grin. “Alright, let’s get to it, then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda left the water, chilly air nipping at his skin, a fervor of heat running down his chest and pooling at the base of his cock. It’d been hours after his last ride, and with these </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he knew he was in for it all over again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda walked up to the twins, hands confidently parking on his hips, cock sticking out with the satyrs’ eyes watching its impatient bounce. Bulda whistled, looking them up and down, eyes coming to squint at the matching tents they were pitching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Big boys, aren’t you? That’s good, that’s really good.” Bulda slowly got to his knees, his arms spread and hands resting on both of the satyrs’ hips, nudging them closer; his strength didn’t move them, they did that on their own. “I like big,” Bulda’s hands crept under the hem of their togas, eyes following the whirl of their orb when his palms filled with an enormous girth. “And you guys are </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda let go of their cocks, hands tugging at their togas, the satyrs’ making no move to stop him from pulling them free; they actually helped, pulling the single loop off their shoulders, togas falling around their feet. Bulda’s mouth was watering at the sight of their freed cocks, looking just as big as they felt, fat cockheads already dribbling with pre. “Let’s get these wet, huh? Gonna need all the help I can get.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In terms of differences, Bulda was hard pressed to find any real tell in the satyrs’ cocks, they were practically uniform there, too. Still, he was partial to the one on the left. His hand gave a slow stroke to the right cock, thumb lying over his oozing silt. “Bear with me, big guy, just gonna get your buddy here good and ready.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda gave his jaw a craning yawn, loosening up his mouth before he let his tongue fall out. He tugged the left satyr closer, worming an arm around his waist, bring that leaking cock that much closer to his face. He held it in place, looking up to the satyr’s mask, eyes finding the orb spinning about his head. Bulda eased forward, tang of precum hitting his tongue and groaning at the taste flowing into his mouth. Leaning back, Bulda cleared the thick, half-saliva mix with a swallow, not wasting a second before he dove back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda took the hand that took hold of his head as a sign he was doing something right. Bulda slurped it down, cockhead filling his mouth and banging solidly against the back of his throat. The satyr’s grip fed him more and more of his length, Bulda feeling his throat </span>
  <em>
    <span>bulge</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the inside at the massive intruder. He didn’t fight it, Bulda didn’t have to do anything but keep up his tonguing, hand sliding up and down the slippery remainder of the shaft. The satyr on his right laid a hand over his head, Bulda peering up at him, the orb dancing between their head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lips too stretched to smirk, Bulda settled for letting a hum rattle in his throat, the satyr he was sucking up letting out a stifled grunt under his mask. The hand on his head loosened, throat coming up empty - then filled when he went down on the next cock. Bulda’s eyes went wide at the taste of his precum; exactly the same as the other. Twins, down to the taste. Bulda made a mental note to put that in his journal, preferably in the back pages. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, the cock was spitting precum down his throat, Bulda gulping and swallowing and doing everything he could to not choke on the spill as he pulled off. His hands never stopped, smearing precum and saliva over the lengths, both tempting him to go back to just sucking them off. He considered it for a moment. Wiping his mouth with the back of his slick hand, Bulda beckoned them down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” his voice was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrecked.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Get down, close together. This is gonna be</span>
  <em>
    <span> fun.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The satyrs shared a look between each other, but eventually complied. Bulda watched with a greedy glint in his eyes as they got down on their knees, looking to him for instruction; he gestured them to go lower. “Sit down, touch tips, guys.” That they didn’t hesitate to do. The satyrs sat down, spreading out their togas over the sand - thoughtful - settling between each other’s legs. Just like he’d said, they’d pressed their cocks up against another, throbbing wetly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda nodded, climbing between them, legs on either side of their legs. “Yep, just like that.” Bulda stuck out a hand, bracing himself on their shoulders, hearing and seeing the heated puffs of air turn to mist in the air. Bulda guided himself carefully down, legs shaking with anticipation when he felt the flaring tips of the satyrs’ cock meet his hole, a hot gush coating his crack with a shiver. “Easy,” he muttered, more to himself than either of the satyrs’. “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gotta-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda’s head snapped back at the instant stretch, each of the cockheads shooting precum, flaring randomly, the stretch all </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the same breath. Bulda shoved down, fingers squeezing the satyrs’ shoulders, their own hands busy holding their shafts still. “Come on,” he grunted, slipping further down the shafts, neck flexing and head thrown back at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>tightness.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Come</span>
  <em>
    <span> on.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He could feel the slide, as miniscule as it was.“Almost, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda’s breath left him in a puff, skin of his hole suddenly pulling too tight around the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shafts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, cockheads fully buried in him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s cock leapt, spitting a line of precum up one of the satyr’s front, orb spinning into an energetic loop above them. Bulda adjusted his grip on the twins’ shoulders, face screwing up when he shoved himself down, ass forced to stretch around the combined girth. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> amazing,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he panted, legs trembling and gasping when they faltered, Bulda letting out a guttural groan when he sunk down on the shafts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on,” he whispered, taking his hand off the satyr behind him, placing both on the shoulders of the one ahead of him, using his shoulders as a more solid brace as he went down. Bulda’s eyes were seeing stars behind their lids, the sensation radiating up from his overstuffed ass hitting him like a bolt of lightning. Bulda’s knees bent, setting into matching impressions in the sand when he neared the base of the satyrs’ cocks, thickening to an unbelievable stretch that had Bulda whimpering. “Stars above, I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> gonna-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda’s breath caught in his chest when he bottomed out, hands slipping from the satyr’s shoulders to feel over his abs, the muscles bulging out with the bulk of the satyrs’ cock. Bulda found himself roaming over the obcence stretch with his hands, smearing trails of precum over the unnatural swell, the satyrs’ letting out a simultaneous half-grunt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda laid his hands on the satyrs’ shoulders, both of them, and started to bring himself up. He crept higher, the reverse tug of flesh running over his prostate, Bulda letting out a strangled cry at the burst of milky white from his cock, orgasm fucked out of him. Grip turning slack, Bulda let himself fall back onto the satyrs’ cock, their hips shifting - trying to thrust at the awkward angle of sitting, Bulda’s body lurching with their out of sync bucking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each rise and plumet forced another jet out of Bulda’s leaking dick, spilling his release over the satyr’s front, two pairs of huge hands settling over his hips, shoulders, legs. They helped him when his legs were too tired to lift himself, Bulda just groaning and crying out everytime his prostate was flattened out by the thick mass inside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda felt a tingle down in his balls, his bouncing sack suddenly squeezing close to the base of his cock, flexing and spitting cum at every thrust of the satyrs’. He was in a daze, euphoria taken hold of his body and sending his mind elsewhere, little more than a bystander to the scene. Bulda didn’t have to bounce anymore, they were taking care of that</span>
  <em>
    <span> for </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His belly gave a gurgle at the scalding pool of pre dumping into his guts, most of spilling back out between his legs, gummy strings running down his legs, sticking into a gloopy web that snapped at each tip-to-base thrust. Bulda’s senses returned to him when the satyrs’ disposition started to crack, their hands trembling over his sweaty flesh, hips shifting minutely, obviously trying to hold back. Bulda shook them off, hands set on both of their shoulders as he pushed back, raising up until just the fattened cockheads were stuck inside him. “Let go, guys, just-” Bulda bit his lip, the satyrs’ quivering, a heavy sweat broke over their skin, chests heaving, cocks gushing so much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda struck the base of their cocks with a slap, eyes rolling in their sockets and shutting when he felt his belly grow warm, the satyrs’ haphazard breathing and the flood of their issue spilling back between his cheeks, pooling into a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mess</span>
  </em>
  <span> over their togas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda rode them through orgasm, ignoring the mess in turn for relishing in the sensation of being full, his belly trying to grow under the force of the satyrs’ unbroken release. He felt fucked silly, but Bulda still had the mind to pull off, sitting on one of their laps with their cocks left to push the dregs of their issue out. Bulda gave them a hand, literally; he couldn’t get both his hands around their cocks, luckily they helped him with that, too. Three pairs of hands worked the final pumps of cum out, Bulda’s hands fully slopped with the tacky cling of their cum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bulda leaned back, the muscular torso of one of the twin’s rising with his ragged breath, Bulda left to catch his own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See? Told you it was gonna be fun.” Bulda nudged his head towards the oasis, the water looking refreshing now. “Wanna take that dip now?” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bulda awoke to the distinct sensation of sunburn, and it was odd how it felt like he was getting used to that. His eyes were closed, but they might have well been peeled away with how sunlight bled through them; Bulda’s eyes rolled in their sockets, feeling sticky, too hot in his skull. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knew better than to open his eyes; the sun felt an arm’s length away, all he could feel was heat, a grimace stretching the itching skin of his face. “Gods, has the sun </span>
  <em>
    <span>fallen?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He griped, still not daring to blink awake - part of him wanted to sink back into his sleep, reminisce and deal with his early arousal, a more sensible just wanted to get out of the sun. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His torso felt crisp, sun frying him to the bone - his legs were oddly cold. Bulda’s hands scraped over blazing sand, grains falling between his fingers feeling like embers. His fingertips ran over his abs, rippling beneath his palms - Bulda shivered at the grip of a wet cold and - </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bulda shielded his eyes with his forearm, squinting and blinking at the water’s surface, his own reflection staring vacantly back at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beneath the rippling surface, Bulda noticed he was very </span>
  <em>
    <span>nude</span>
  </em>
  <span>; his member laid between his legs, sack pulled tight at the base. His unconscious mind had stirred him into a throbbing mood, cold doing nothing to tame the hot pulse at his loins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, a shiver ran through him, chilling him from the daze of his sleep. “G-Gods above,” he muttered, beginning to pull himself from the oasis. “I’ve</span>
  <em>
    <span> got </span>
  </em>
  <span>to stop doing this.” It was beginning to become a habit, Bulda wasn’t sure if he’d call it a bad thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His night had certainly been eventful. Each of his encounters proved to be informative, Bulda’s methods of crossing the language gap may have been unorthodox, but at least it’d been</span>
  <em>
    <span> fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bulda thought of the twins, reached for his clothes and began to pull them on as his mind recreated their time together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A fever of heat thrummed under his too hot skin, smooth pull of his clothes sliding over his skin in a mess of sensation - his cock ached, blood flooding into the warming veins. Bulda’s hand had already started to feel himself, a hand down his pants, fingers wrapping around his length - Bulda snatched his hand away like he’d been scalded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he repremainded himself, giving a cautious look to the dunes. Bulda wouldn’t repeat yesterday’s mistakes - he all but studied the horizon, searching for anything remotely similar to a satyr; Bulda saw not one pair of horns poking up from the sands, waited a few seconds longer, and finally broke his stare. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The desert had its charms, but Bulda had grown tired of using the sand as a bed - he missed his own, and more importantly, he missed </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bulda adjusted his scarves as he surveyed the horizon, taking a slow glance up at the sun, the cloudless sky paining him into averting his stare. He let out a sigh, hands falling to his hips. “Alright, which way </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> home?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His sense of direction abandoned him sometime between his first fright of yesternight and finding the oasis, though Bulda was sure he’d been on the right track. Now, it was only a matter of retracing his steps, then retracing his former self’s steps, and then he’d be home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda looked to the sands at his feet, shifting in the breeze, patterns forming and merging into each other. He pursed his lips. “Hm, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> this’ll be harder than I thought.” The desert was a strange thing, even now, Bulda walked in uncharted stretches of the horned land. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Part of him wondered if this was any time to begin a map, he felt like it’d come in handy sooner than later; the desert looked quite different in the sunlight, some trick of the shadows and moon making everything look alien; more so than the desert already was, its horns were anything but ordinary. In the scorching daylight, the mystery had been drained away, everything revealing itself in sharp detail.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda felt the drip of sweat down his neck, scarves doing little against the sun’s shower. He could see the ripple of air on the horizon, curling over the dunes, a distorted image of the far off sands. The wind blew occasionally, treating his stinging skin to a few seconds of relief. His fingers twitched, his mind already having begun breaking the sight down, taking it to memory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If only I had my-” Bulda’s words fell off, hands patting his pockets - nothing. Bulda swore. “Gods, where is it?” He spun around, eyes drifting over the greenery of the oasis. Sand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> sand, burlap - </span>
  <em>
    <span>there.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pencils, bottles of ink - still plugged, spilled out over the sand. His bag was left open, looking suspiciously riffled through, the brown skin of his journal sticking from its inner pocket. Bulda’s mouth fell into a scowl, stomping over the sand, quietly hoping his satyr aquaintices hadn’t gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> curious with his belongings. Bulda fell into a crouch, grumbling stormily to himself as he plucked his supplies from the sand, a quick whip of his hand knocking the grains away before shoving them into his bag. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No place for sketching around here…” Bulda bemused, rising back into standing, wicking away the beading sweat off his brow. His hand remained over his eyes, squinting them in the small shadow of his palm. “Much too much sun, terrible view of the desert, too.” Call him picky, and he knew he was, but if he wanted his map to be reliable, he had to find somewhere else to set up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda wiped the sweat from his brow, lips pulled into a thin frown, parting with his begrudging sigh. “Guess I’m walking…” Bulda mumbled, shoulders falling with the weight of his disappointment. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Again.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Surely there had to be some higher peaks in the desert, somewhere with a clear view of the sprawling land. Bulda glared at the horizon, a dizzying ripple where the heat distorted the air. He let out another long suffering sigh, willing one foot after another. “I should’ve just stayed at the village…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was too late for regrets, not when he’d surrounded himself in miles of sand, the only landmarks to go off of being the plentiful horns that stuck through the ground. Bulda knew there was little point in bemoaning his fate, all he could do was walk on, try to keep his pace quick, push the ever-present roll of sweat down his back as far as he could from his mind. Bulda lifted his eyes, giving a harsh glare to the sun, wincing at the scorching rays that had him tearing his eyes away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He huffed, using the back of his hand to wipe his brow again, eyes beginning to irritate from the drip of his salty sweat. “It’s times like these I wished I’d gone into the arcane,” Bulda muttered, tongue tasting over his lips, dry and catching his tongue. “I could just-” Bulda made a gesture out in front of him, only vaguely remencient of how he’d seen the mages of his village cast their strange spellcraft. “Make it cooler. Or conjure up something to drink.” Gods above, he was missing the sight of that oasis already, his company even moreso. The satyrs hadn’t been very talkative, but at least they were interesting. It was a shame neither of them had stayed the night, Bulda wouldn’t have minded the company.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a twitch coming from between his legs, Bulda couldn’t help but to crack a grin at a certain part of his anatomy agreeing with that thought. Bulda reached down and found the half-hard bulge in his loose pants, not yet tenting the breathable cotton, though that could’ve changed if he kept up his groping. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Again, and with another groan, Bulda tore his hand away from his needy cock, angling it so it laid against his hip. Bulda’s hand rested over his hip, thumb idly playing with his plumping cockhead through his pants, his footsteps getting slower as his mind swayed from his task at hand. And speaking of which-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s throat vibrated with his groan, yanking his hand away from the rigid jut of his cock, bouncing with excitement against his lip, trying its best to escape the rippling folds of his pants. “Gods above, I’ve got to find somewhere to take care of this.” Curse those satyrs, Bulda thought as he stomped through the sand, cock hard as a rock and leading his way. Bulda refused to look at it, lest he tease himself any further, make the growing ache in his balls any worse than he already had. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda cursed at the sands next, giving a stiff kick to the dunes - his eyes shot wide at the pain shooting through his toes, stinging hard and getting a yelp from him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He swung up his foot, catching the aching, surely bruised limb, forced into an awkward one-legged wobble. “Shit, shit...what?” Bulda gawked at the solid red band under the sand, letting go of his foot to knock the sand away from the stone, emerging from the sand and beginning to incline. Bulda let his hurt foot take a step forward, feeling along the stone up the sand, more of the grit moving from the breeze. Tension built in his joints, the hill growing steeper, the stone jagged enough to act as footholds. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda stole a peek over the lip of the rising cliffside, his curious eyes growing bugged and terrified at the steep drop awaiting him; it was all smooth stone as far as he could see, gleaming harsh against his eyes. It was a chasm, one that Bulda felt just a twinge of fear getting so close to. He’d have to turn around, look elsewhere, but while he was here...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling onto his back, Bulda patted over his person, a bubbling excitement in his chest at his discovery. He tossed his bag to the side when he’d pulled his book free. Bulda couldn’t get his journal open fast enough, unconking his bottle of ink and laying it in a scooped mound. With the first stroke of over his pages, “Huh, isn’t that something…” At last, his creative drive beat out his arousal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Had he been more daring, Bulda might’ve jumped the edge, slid down into the chasm, and mapped out the internal workings of the sandstone cave. It made him grin, if nothing else. “I think that’d be like the last </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> see of me,” Bulda mumbled, eyes flitting over his journal, getting another glance at how the light caught on the stone. Perhaps, on a more prepared outing, he’d venture down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For now, Bulda stretched across the warm rock, laying his journal to dry in his sun. For now, he wanted to take another nap. It wasn’t getting any cooler, and he felt himself getting used to the heat. Folding his arms under his chin, Bulda laid his head over his forearms, something in the sense of a cushion between him and the sand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda knew it wasn’t the best place to nap, but it wasn’t like he had many options. Besides, he was just tired enough to ignore the heat, let his eyes shut once more and let his mind drift. His fingers pulled his scarf over his eyes, keeping out some measure of the heat, bathing him in darkness just long enough to slip into a daze. Bulda’s breathing became soft, natural, shoulders soaking in the heat of the sun as he fell into dreamless slumber.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was formless, hardly more than the vague awareness of knowing he was something, nothing truly tangible - not yet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>when?</span>
  <em>
    <span> Formlessness was - boring, limited. The thought struggled, and grew frustrated from his weakness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His thoughts allowed for nothing fruitful, yet still he struggled, fought against the void, cold and endless. The collection of aimless rage writhed in his dark prison, wanting nothing more than to wrench himself from the pull. Escape, rebellion, freedom; it consumed him, his thoughts sharpened with the heat of his rage. He might not have been much, but he was furious. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was alight against the darkness, a flare, dim and puny, but he was something. He was more than he’d been, but he was - small, insignificant. The space that separated him from everything else was fathomless, and he was adrift among the dark.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Small.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Weak.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His rage consumed him, his light growing brighter, his thoughts burning away until fury was all that made up his being. His existence was small, pointless, left to the bidding of the cold heavens. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He remembered struggling even then, fighting the pull of the sky, to force himself towards the blue sphere below. He remembered the fire, not his own, that engulfed him, a bolt of light streaking over the planet’s surface. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The heat became him, the light from the sky, bathing him in comforting warmth. The grit between his toes should’ve burned him, but his skin was too thick, adjusted to the scorching face of the desert. He didn’t feel a thirst in his throat, even when he’d watched the sun dip past the horizon, the moonlight and cold not stopping his trek. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn’t be sure of where he was headed, he’d be lying if he knew why he was still walking. It was a strange, lucid dream. He could’ve stopped, part of him wanted to, he just </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Control was slipping away from him, beginning to observe more than he was participating. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was a wild, senseless thing; his hands smashed into rocks until they broke into fragments, he chased the creatures that hid from him under boulders, kicked against the stones until they, too, broke under the force of his rage.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It felt like that’s all that composed him. </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Rage</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, a volatile emotion that surged under his skin, crimson as blood, crusted with sand and chipped stone. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His days were countless, wandering. He knew the sun as well as the moon, he remembered howling curses at the heavenly bodies. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The vision began to blur, foreign sounds bleeding into the flashing scenes, closer and closer, mindscape rending apart at the seams.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When the scene reduced to darkness, he felt the sobering crawl of wakefulness sweeping away the empty space.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>----</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Someone was rifling through his things; Bulda woke slowly, pulse quickening under his frying skin, forcing himself to keep his breathing light enough to pass for a sleeping body. Bulda let his breath slow to a halt, listening in on the low mutters just an arm's reach from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"-borin', fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda's heart clenched at the telltale rustle of paper, the crude words doing little to ease the dread brewing in his chest. He settled himself with the thought of his illustrations being safe; it'd been some time, the ink was sure to dry. No harm done. Besides, surely whoever, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> this person was, they'd be </span>
  <em>
    <span>respectful</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough to-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rrrrriiiiiippp</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda's scarf was nearly sucked down his throat at the brutal tear of paper, hands flailing out to his sides, patting along the hot sand and feeling- nothing there, oh Gods. Bulda snatched the fabric out of his face, eyes darting about before a flash of red stole his attention, barely able to take a good look at the person before he was stumbling towards them. "Hey, be </span>
  <em>
    <span>careful-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Bulda's words were shoved back down his throat as a hand, spanning the length of his entire face with the hot palm, clasped around his head. With the same effort it took him to toss a broken quill, Bulda's breath was knocked out of him as that hand pushed away, his back colliding with the sand with a whuff from his lips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda stared up at the sun, dazed and wheezing from the sharp </span>
  <em>
    <span>twinge</span>
  </em>
  <span> of pain up his back. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oooh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not so-" Bulda's eyelashes blinked away sandy grit, squinting as the sun was blocked out by a broad pair of shoulders- fiercely red-skinned, even the shaded front of his body showed nothing but crimson flesh. "R-</span>
  <em>
    <span>rough?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Oh, Gods…" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a loincloth teasingly close to his face, a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>full</span>
  </em>
  <span> one; the rational, less opportunist side of his mind focused on how it slapped together it looked- the material was gray and heavily worn, torn along the edges, straps looking frayed around the creature’s broad waist. A loose braid of green reinforced the loincloth, not quite reaching completely around, a loose knot at the base of his abdomen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With one part of his mind satisfied, Bulda felt a flush pool under his face, mouth falling open with a dumbstruck drawl, hands slowly crawling away from the loaded pouch. Gods above, the soft lump behind the cloth was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absurd</span>
  </em>
  <span>, jostling heavily under its prodigious weight; the hidden root of the creature's endowment was behind a bush of gold, waist tucking in tight and stacked with rippling brawn.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Bulda's eyes swept over the tall stranger, he took note of the odd tassel around the enormous arm of the creature; flattened cuffs, striped with emerald and just barely held together by a knot in the jade rope, the idle flex of the muscle tested the band. Bulda’s throat bobbed, eyes catching on the beaded necklace around the stranger’s neck, thin string connecting the stony baubles looking as strained as the rest of his clothes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The young man's heart skipped under the piercing, somewhat confused leer of the horned devil. "Oh, man, uh-" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The hell are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to be?" The horned stranger grit out, long fangs jutting up from his bottom lip as he grimaced down, cocking his head with a twist of confusion in his brow. Bulda's eyes roamed up the stacked ripple of his abdomen, off-gold hair rising to a thick flourish between his broad pecs. His skin didn't show a bead of sweat under the sun, yet he looked impossibly swole, tendons rolling in his stump-wide neck as he leered at Bulda from every angle. "You're fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" the stranger mocked, a devious edge in his tone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda felt something stir up inside of him, guts warming up like the sun's heat had sunk down them. "I...h-hey there, friend!" Bulda's eyes wandered up the muscular curves of the guy's thighs, trying not to stare too long at the off-gold trail of hair bursting up from his loincloth. "S-see you found your way to my journal!" Bulda's eyes drifted off the sharp hip of the fellow, his journal held precariously by the corner, a few sheets split raggedly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I-I've been using it to remember the sights out here!" His heart </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bulda fighting to urge to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>grab</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, but that seemed...</span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> ill-advised, considering the inhuman bulk his new company wore with ease. "It s-sure would be a shame if that got, uh, messed up!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The stranger huffed, raising the damaged book back up to his face, huge fingers taking hold of the torn sheet. "That's </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumb</span>
  </em>
  <span>," the stranger grumbled, pulling</span>
  <em>
    <span> down</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the ripped sheet, shredding it and letting the scraps fall to the wind. "Nothin' even out here. Just sand and those fuckin' weirdos."  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Riiiiiip</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bulda's heart felt very much the same, but, wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>weirdos?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hands balling together and squeezing hard, Bulda fought against his every instinct to snatch his journal away; self-preservation was a powerful thing, after all. "Ah, you know the satyrs? You aren't, ah." The brutal shredding came to a stop, Bulda feeling the hot glare of the stranger on his head, meekly peeking up at the towering fellow. "One of them?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>A sneer, long teeth pulling his lips tight. "Those little fuckin' freaks </span><em><span>wish."</span></em> <em><span>Rrrriiiip</span></em><span>, another handful of paper torn out, balling in the creature's fist and tossed away. Bulda swallowed back his grief, watching in kept silence as his work was destroyed. "Stupid masks, who the fuck wants to never talk." Toss, </span><em><span>riiiip.</span></em><span> "Stupid weirdos, don't even look anythin' </span><em><span>like</span></em><span> me." Fingers scrapped against the hardback of the journal, papers emptied out, scattered among the dunes.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With an annoyed grunt, a furrow creased his brow, the creature's head tilting in Bulda's direction with a glare set in his eyes. Turning to face him, Bulda was increasingly aware of the difference in size between himself and his company; the guy had no qualms about entering Bulda's personal space, those heaving pecs a few inches away from flexing against his face. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>What." </span>
  </em>
  <span>The creature</span>
  <em>
    <span> growled. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"You sayin' I'm one of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaks?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda blinked once, twice before he recognized the growing severity of the creature's face; red of his face </span>
  <em>
    <span>blazing</span>
  </em>
  <span> hotter, eyes narrowing in like a hawk's- Bulda threw his hands up as veins began to sprout over the man's neck. "N-not at all! Of course not!" Bulda laughed, just as it seemed the creature was about to </span>
  <em>
    <span>erupt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dense jaw held taut, veins pulsing hard under crimson flesh. "You're obviously </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of them! You're...ah, you're-" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fuckin' </span>
  <b>
    <em>what?!</em>
  </b>
  <span>" The demon's voice had gone ragged in a heartbeat, spittle flying off the sharp edge of his teeth. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I'm-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're bigger!" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creature relented in his fury, expanding pupils narrowing in on Bulda's stunned expression, the young man taking a slow rasp at the air. "You're much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> bigger than the satyrs were. I, uh, I was curious to know what you are!" As the scarlet hue bled away from the quelling man's face, Bulda dared to speak again. "Rather, who you were. I, uh, imagine you have a name?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde stared him down, eyes squinting down at him, raking over him with a seedy glint. "Heh, name's Serces." A smirk tugged at smooth lips, an all too smug chuckle rolling out of his big chest, one Bulda swore seemed just a bit...</span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger.</span>
  </em>
  <span> "And yeah, I'm fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he huffed in agreement, taking a half-step forward, almost throwing Bulda back into the sand with the needy thrust of his loincloth. "Like it, right? </span>
  <b>
    <em>Big</em>
  </b>
  <span> as they fuckin' come, c'mon." Bulda's face warmed as Serces shoved his bulge closer, his sweaty musk wafting around the artist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda made a spooked noise, fists squeezing handfuls of sand as the stranger just </span>
  <em>
    <span>bobbed</span>
  </em>
  <span> his endowment in front of his face- it was barely contained by the tied fabric, impression becoming more and more detailed as the pouch slowly filled. "By the...yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> big, buddy." The cockhead flared out near the bottom of the too-small pouch, looking fat as Bulda's </span>
  <em>
    <span>fist</span>
  </em>
  <span> and growing </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the round swell of his nuts churning hard behind the arm-length prick. "Gods...that gets </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> The loincloth was just about useless with what he was packing, thick around as Bulda's wrist from bush to thinly weeping tip. His guts twisted up inside him, a familiar hunger welling up in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces wore a cocky grin, eyes drawing narrower as he grunted. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Way</span>
  </em>
  <span> bigger, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch."</span>
  </em>
  <span> Serces' breath shifted into a low growl, jaw jutting out further as a solid </span>
  <em>
    <span>surge</span>
  </em>
  <span> pushed out at his frame; he stood tall, his loincloth's ties undoing itself around his broad waist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're...damn, it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>still-</span>
  </em>
  <span> uh, you're definitely the biggest guy I've seen so far." Bulda licked his lips, skin feeling dry, tongue not wet enough to sate the </span>
  <em>
    <span>itch</span>
  </em>
  <span> to them. "Uh, you mind if I…?" Bulda got up on his knees, listening keenly for the needy draw of breath from the stranger as he shuffled up to his legs, bulging loincloth inches from his face. He could feel the heat pouring off it, enough to back the skin of his face break out in a sweat. "Just- wanted to get a closer look, yeah?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was just as ridiculous up close; all real, rhythmic throb and swell tenting his loincloth, long impression bigger with each grunt and hard flex of the shaft. Bulda's hands wandered beyond his notice, digits working up the hard contours of the hunk's thighs, fingers feeling the muscle tense up with a sinewy bloat, shrinking back minutely. "Whoa, that's...</span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, man." Bulda could only watch in frozen rapture, throat twitching with his thirsting gulp, a liquid heat running down south. His pants hid his arousal well, thighs knocking still tender cock around, Bulda biting back the moan in his throat. "I've never </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Bulda's mouth was swiftly filled with a sandy, bland taste. His eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>bugged</span>
  </em>
  <span>, feeling a hand on the back of his neck, face smushed completely into the stuffed loincloth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Above him, a lecherous chortle had Bulda's skin shivering into goosebumps, pinning hand rubbing his overheated face into the musky bulge. "Look at that, my fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>bulge</span>
  </em>
  <span> is bigger than your </span>
  <em>
    <span>head</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Serces gave a wicked snicker, rolling Bulda's face over the huge mound of his nuts, cock still jutting out below, finally growing past the hem of his loincloth with a quivering spurt of crystal clear issue. Tugging back on Bulda's head, Serces gave a nasty sneer at the sweaty, wrecked sight of the human. "Hey, c'mere. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Closer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I wanna see somethin'." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda gave a weak groan, forced up on his knees, Serces' hand tight around his skull, guiding him none too gently to shove his nose up against the horny imp's nuts; Bulda swore his face was burning in spots, the discomfort becoming greater the longer Serces held him in place, his only breath the ones that were saturated with the creature's spicy musk. Serces gave a satisfied guffaw, hefting his balls with one hand, sizing up the thick-skinned swell against Bulda's sweating face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> yeah, look, it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Serces decided, fingers rolling over and gently </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezing</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of his nuts, a fat rope of pre escaping his lancing prick. "Look at that, bigger than your face. Fuck, you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just my nuts would fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>smother</span>
  </em>
  <span> you." Serces' thighs slung over Bulda's shoulder, ramming his balls up fast and hard to his face, the artist groaning at the stinging </span>
  <em>
    <span>wallop</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the fat balls, a blissed groan worked out of the randy beast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hmph, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I could fuckin'..." Serces' weight bore </span>
  <em>
    <span>down</span>
  </em>
  <span> on Bulda's shoulders, a cry of surprise and slight </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain</span>
  </em>
  <span> before Serces grew impatient and shoved at him, Bulda rolling onto his back and- forced to stay, Serces holding a hand to his sternum, bare feet planting on both sides of his head, a shadow cast over his face before- his world turned dark again, and hot, a salty musk surrounding him as realization set in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>throb</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his face and warm puddle growing over his stomach painted a vivid picture in his mind; Serces straddling his face, balls shoved up tight against his face, cock sprawled out like a thumping arm over his stomach, nudging hard against his pants. The devil's groans struck every cord in his inflamed loins, Bulda just left to writhe under the immense weight, fighting for breath under a huge and churning mass. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Heh, can't move, </span>
  <b>
    <em>puny?</em>
  </b>
  <span> Didn't- </span>
  <b>
    <em>nnf</em>
  </b>
  <span>, didn't fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> so." Serces sounded awfully proud of himself, and he felt- </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavier</span>
  </em>
  <span>, by great increments, that much Bulda knew for certain; the guy </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting bigger, and despite not being a satyr, he was about as horned up as one. Maybe even more so, not even the last pair had been this...forward. Bulda gritted his teeth and flexed his cock through his pants, hard and jutting up from the wetting fabric. "Heh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that's</span>
  </em>
  <span> all you've got, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when a hand wrapped around his clothed prick, palm engulfing his entire length, giving it a teasing pump. "'S almost cute, if it wasn't so </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda sputtered against the jostling sack spilling over his face, a ripple traveling up the underside of Serces' cock, erupting in a soaking pool over Bulda's stomach. "I-it's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>small!"</span>
  </em>
  <span> He managed in puffs, the rank taste of the devil's nuts smearing over his tongue, his randy captor rocking harder into his hips. "And will you- let me up already! Oof-" Bulda's answer came as a firm </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrust</span>
  </em>
  <span> of wide hips, Bulda's face buried in the hot skin of Serces' balls, groaning wordlessly into the wall of flesh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut the fuck up</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Serces groaned, half growled, letting his hips come to a stop, enormous swell of his balls pinning his prey's head to the sand. "You're gonna fuckin' do what I say, and you're gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span> down there." The almost bruising rhythm picked up again, Serces' hips rocking hard into Bulda's face, dimpling skin of his nuts scrubbing over the young man's face. "Yeah, stay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>...</span>
  <b>
    <em>hmmf</em>
  </b>
  <span>." Bulda's curls were wet, slicked over his face in salty trails, the hot dribble of pre frothing over his beard, sticky bubbles forming in the denser curls. Serces' curious hand hadn't left his cock, squeezing it in his growing palm, a pounding heat building up under his skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>A-ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods!</span>
  </em>
  <span> W-</span>
  <em>
    <span>wait!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna-</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Bulda's mouth was filled with the loose flesh of Serces' nuts, hurriedly shoved hard into his face, the devil's hand roughly stroking Bulda's cock through his scratchy pants. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I wanna see what this little thing can do." Stroke, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stroke-</span>
  </em>
  <span> closer with every rough squeeze from Serces' brutish fingers, growing frustrated with his pants in the way and just tearing them open, cock lolling out of the gash, soaked in Serces' spilling issue. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Heh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuck, you're tiny all over. Look at it," Serces chuckled, fingertips nudging into the tender give of Bulda's balls, a cry coming from underneath the devil. "Hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hey.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Don't fuckin' pass out or somethin' dumb, I'm not done yet." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda winced as the overly hot mound of Serces' balls lifted away from his face, the young artist taking the chance to catch his breath- his eyes burned at the salty cling of sweat, squinting up at the undulating muscle of Serces' backside; the devil's hips rocked through the air, cock thumping over Bulda's belly, the dense fibers of his glutes tensing up, a gradual </span>
  <em>
    <span>push</span>
  </em>
  <span> pressing out from within.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>"</span><b><em>Fuuuck</em></b><span>, I'm gettin' so big. See that, tiny? Bet'cha those freaks</span> <span>wouldn't stand a </span><em><span>chance</span></em><span> against me." Serces' voice broken into a grating snarl, teeth snapping shut, Bulda watching the sweat bead up over the devil's crimson skin, muscles splitting apart and surging bigger. "I'd- </span><em><span>uunf</span></em><span>, fuckin' </span><b><em>flatten 'em!</em></b><em><span>" </span></em><span>Serces' hips snapped forward, bucking up into Bulda's stomach, cockhead a drooling, hot weight against his flesh.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A needy </span>
  <em>
    <span>whine</span>
  </em>
  <span> drew up Bulda's throat, hands writhing over the sand, hips pinned down by Serces' scorching mitts. "Dude, </span>
  <em>
    <span>c'mon!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Damn, one hand was all it took for the guy to keep him to the ground, that hadn't been the case before. Gods above, he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> growing. Enraptured, Bulda listened to the hulk groan, cursing at nothing, at him as the surge </span>
  <em>
    <span>sank</span>
  </em>
  <span> up through his legs, fuzzy meat of his thighs looking thicker around than the artist's </span>
  <em>
    <span>waist</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I didn't say you could talk." Bulda's cock </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulsed</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the devil's grip, pearly essence drawing up his needy, nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>crushed</span>
  </em>
  <span> prick. "And don't try 'nd boss me around, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Serces gave a frustrated huff, palm flexing minorly around Bulda's cock- for the artist, it had him </span>
  <em>
    <span>bellowing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, head thrown back into the sand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"'Don't get so fuckin' happy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>runt</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Serces spat out, Bulda's body twitching with the sensation dancing in his bloodstream, a moan drawing up out of his flushed chest. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm</span>
  </em>
  <span> in charge, 'nd I wanna do somethin'." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda couldn't see straight, head reduced to a swirling mess, delirious from his thirst and the overheating bulk of Serces. Bulda blinked, eyes popping wide as Serces began to lower his tremendous backside, the artist giving a stifled shout before his face was buried between a pair of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, muscular cheeks. The lop-sided flesh of the devil’s backside was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculously </span>
  </em>
  <span>firm, his face feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>squashed</span>
  </em>
  <span> under the bulbous cheeks, a deliberate </span>
  <em>
    <span>roll </span>
  </em>
  <span>of Serces’ hips getting a devilish guffaw out of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that feels fuckin’</span>
  <em>
    <span> weird.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Serces’ backside clenched, Bulda groaning at the pressure mounting around his head, a desperate rasp of air feeling like a flint was struck down his throat. “I didn’t say stop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>runt.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Serces’ hole clenched over Bulda’s nose, grinding down hard over the hump, scorching rim dragging up his face, stinging lips mashed up against the devil’s pucker. “</span>
  <b>
    <em>Unnf,</em>
  </b>
  <span> feels so fuckin’ weird. C’mon, keep doin’ that shit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s mouth broke into a gasp, shallow huffs burning down into his lungs, head spinning from being so close to the pungent musk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Nngh!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda’s toes curled up over the sand, cock jumping in the devil’s hot grip, the tight clench of Serces’ fingers around his cock keeping his burning issue in his loins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces rocked back </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> onto Bulda’s face, impatient and grinding his hole over the artist’s face, cheeks clenching up tight enough to squeeze a groan out of the human. “Think this puny shit is gonna get to blow before me? Stop fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>squirming </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘nd keep goin’.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The devil snorted, hot puffs over his sneering lips, his cock’s heavy drip looking thicker, Bulda’s lap completely soaked in the glassy slime; the sand around him was silty, gumming up as Bulda writhed, fighting to breathe air that didn’t s</span>
  <em>
    <span>ear</span>
  </em>
  <span> at his lungs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Serces’ weight too overwhelming, steadily heavier over his face; it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, being stuck under the cocky devil was worse than his sunburn. Bulda’s hands scratched up Serces’ thighs, fingers </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezing</span>
  </em>
  <span> as hard as he could muster, not even a dimple coming to the muscular flesh- his lungs </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, face feeling on fire, mouth falling open and heaving for breath. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s mouth crashed against the devil’s flexing hole, lips drawing back from his teeth, enemal quickly warming from the flush contact. Swallowing hard, Bulda stuck out his tongue to the puckering rim, tip touching the flexing hole and</span>
  <em>
    <span> recoiling </span>
  </em>
  <span>back; Gods, every</span>
  <em>
    <span> inch </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the devil was hot to the touch. Firelicked tip of his tongue scraping over his teeth, Bulda dared another go at the meaty rim, bracing himself from the salty</span>
  <em>
    <span> burn </span>
  </em>
  <span>that laid heavy over the twitching flesh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Face nudging minutely deeper between the cheeks, Bulda’s tongue plunged into the blazing hole, choking on the clenching heat that surrounded his sensitive flesh. Serces’ groan came in time with a cruel mash of his hips, Bulda’s head sinking a few inches deeper into the sand, pressure unbelievable as the devil squirmed over his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnf</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unnnf</span>
  </em>
  <span>,</span>
  <b>
    <em> fuck.</em>
  </b>
  <span> Forget those little freaks, how ‘bout I smash </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It wasn’t much of a threat, but a warning, Bulda immediately feeling the weight over his head and struggling shoulders increase, fuzzy thighs smacking up to his ears with a deafening smack. Bulda couldn’t hear past the devil’s meaty flanks, head throbbing in time with the pulse of Serces’ blood.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s chest </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Serces fully sitting on him, only a fraction of his weight taken off by the devil’s wide thighs, his head barely able to move under the quivering mounds on his face. His mouth worked as much as he could, tongue burning like he’d rubbed it up against hot coals, the devil’s sweat smelling oddly sweet, like fruit burned over fire, smouldering and addictive. Bulda blocked out the pressure over his ribs, the fierce throb in his lungs, focusing on stealing another taste of the devil’s pliable rim.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could only imagine he was doing a good job, not that the devil was saying much, but he was moving an awful lot. Bulda tried to take it as a compliment, but his face felt a bit too bruised to be so generous. His mouth felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span>, tongue sizzling behind his overheated teeth, the fried organ weakly flicking up into Serces’ sopping wet crack. Bulda </span>
  <em>
    <span>wheezed</span>
  </em>
  <span> for breath, hands given up on trying to make a gesture of pounding at Serces' thighs, the devil seemed far more focused on his own pleasure than Bulda's bodily needs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces was merciless, humping back roughly over Bulda's smothered features, stroking his pendulous cock as he sprayed a crystine mess of cords up Bulda's front. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unf</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Keep- </span>
  <em>
    <span>nnngggff</span>
  </em>
  <span>, goin', runt." Serces's jaw clacked together, tendons in his neck standing on edge through his darkly flushed skin; his hands curled around the brutally thick root of his cock, balls </span>
  <em>
    <span>lurching</span>
  </em>
  <span> over Bulda's slimed front with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sloshing</span>
  </em>
  <span> writhe. Serces' hands were a blur through the oozing mess he churned up what felt like splashing bucketfuls of his goopy issue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just as much as anything else about the devil; the sensitive flesh between his thighs stung profusely, like he'd raked his fingers across the sunburnt rashes, itched until it was inflamed and throbbing. Bulda's feet struggled over the sand, trying to relieve the maddening itch, his stinging cock bobbing through the air in his futile squirm. Gods, he needed to cum, but he couldn't reach his needy cock, and Serces had given up on abusing the sore organ, so it just swept through, neglected and spitting thin ropes up Bulda's belly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kissing hard against Serces' blooming hole, Bulda </span>
  <em>
    <span>shivered</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the warm flush sinking through the skin of his belly, insides warmed like he'd swallowed a pot of stew. With every copious burst of the devil's gelling pre, Bulda felt the heat increase, runoff feeling like embers falling down the etched lines of his hips. It should've hurt a lot more than it did, instead it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>good-</span>
  </em>
  <span> pleasantly warm, guts lining with heat, so much that Bulda swore his insides were </span>
  <em>
    <span>glowing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Heat became </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, shoots of unseen flame hooking through the catch of his insides, Bulda's sucking breath tasting of burnt air and peachy musk, groaning as the fire bled up into his chest. With the heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>rock</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Serces on his torso, Bulda felt the sear of his blood </span>
  <em>
    <span>worsen</span>
  </em>
  <span> where the devil's skin met his. Serces' sweat was a tangy slick, Bulda's tongue had gone tired, but not of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>taste</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him. Belly feeling like a boiling pot, Bulda's hands groped along the bulging slope of Serces' legs, huffing over the sticky-wet rim, tongue diving back into the clench of heat with a pained whine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His lungs were on </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, throbbing like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bruise</span>
  </em>
  <span> behind his ribs, Serces' ever-present weight keeping Bulda's breaths shallow and </span>
  <em>
    <span>reeking</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his heady scent. It was smothering, the human's eyes closed and stinging, lips swollen hot and pressing wetly to Serces' pucker. A bellow grew from the demon's chest, his weight crashing down onto Bulda, the human's cock giving a single, drawn out gush of off-white over the gritty sand. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuuuuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you're so fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>nasty</span>
  </em>
  <span> for likin' this shit," Serces taunted, hips rolling back, face twitching up with a jittery pleasure as his hole swallowed up Bulda's nose. "Not half-bad, too bad you're so fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, can barely- </span>
  <em>
    <span>unnf</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> anythin'." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda would've rolled his eyes if he could, half his face feeling flattened, stinging like a wide </span>
  <em>
    <span>whelp</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The throb of his lungs quickly out of his focus, body radiating too many forms of discomfort to keep up. With a whine, Bulda woozily ate out the devil's hole, squirming under the scorching weight as he fought for room to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was futile, really; Serces rose his face relentlessly, cheeks swollen up </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger</span>
  </em>
  <span> through the lewd experiment, swallowing Bulda's head up to his </span>
  <em>
    <span>neck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no part of the human's sizzling features not soaked in peachy sweat. Serces' pucker </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrinkled</span>
  </em>
  <span> over Bulda's face, mouth, chin, mashed flat nose sinking into blazing folds. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The human moaned into the suckling hole, kissing hard into the folds of salty, yawning flesh. Serces’ denser bulk </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembled</span>
  </em>
  <span> around Bulda, the puddling ooze over his belly feeling thicker by the second, harsh shots of slime thudding over his neglected prick. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck, gonna cum." Serces growled, Bulda feeling the tailend of his words before the devil's weight shifted forward, </span>
  <em>
    <span>peeling</span>
  </em>
  <span> the tremendous mounds off the human's smeared over face. The sand shifted around his prone, heaving form as Serces got to his feet, the lewd smacks of his hands along his arcing prick never stopping. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda's lips cracked open in a rasp, the sun's rays feeling far too painful on his inflamed skin. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wheezed</span>
  </em>
  <span> for air, chest billowing hard with the effort, dizzied senses picking up on the splatter of hot ooze up the valley of his abs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Heat </span>
  <em>
    <span>lanced</span>
  </em>
  <span> up his belly, Bulda's chest drenched in a single slimy blast, Serces close to </span>
  <em>
    <span>roaring</span>
  </em>
  <span> above him, twitchy claws slick and churning the streaming ooze into a foam between his knuckles. It drew up into a choppy, viscous sludge, smacking over Bulda's neck and face in heavy wads. "Gonna fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>drown</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, runt." It sounded like a promise, one that made Bulda's too hot guts clench up, a broken moan breaking past the crackling rim of his lips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces' strokes came to a stop, a hand splayed over his cockhead, the other holding to the lurching swell of his nuts, jawline going stony as his teeth gnashed in his skull. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fff</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck!</em>
  </b>
  <span>" Serces’ balls lurched close to his quivering prick, a steady throb fattening it further as the swollen tip twitched, pissed out a solid stream of milky ooze over Bulda’s chest before the devil groaned aloud. His cock grew rockhard in his sloppy grip, next gout of his load striking the human’s face with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>stinging</span>
  </em>
  <span> force, Bulda gasping- gurgling when his mouth was nose was smothered with the gummy weight of Serces’ spitting, scalding hot load.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He burned, Bulda feeling himself break into a fierce, itchy sweat as he felt his skin be drenched in molten ooze, his groans bubbling over his smeared lips, forced to swallow what had ran into his mouth; it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>thick</span>
  </em>
  <span>, catching on the way down his throat, long cords connecting from the back of his gargling throat to his lips. His jaw clenching up tight, </span>
  <em>
    <span>straining</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get the mess down, choking anew on it when his throat spasmed, raw fissions of heat spreading out from his burning mouth. Bulda sucked for air, tongue moving over his lips, layers of sludge feeling like he moved his tongue through boiling rock. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he felt the heat, but his tongue was very much in one piece; stinging, like he’d burned his tongue, but it wasn’t so painful to not dare to taste Serces’ load again. Bulda gasped, eyes closed and still feeling the slow sink of heat down into his skull, his skin soaked with sweat under his clothes, under the pumping sludge. Bulda’s bones felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the muscle around them </span>
  <em>
    <span>aching</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the close heat, it broke him into a restless writhe, churning up the ooze that’d grown around him in a sandy slip. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>funny</span>
  </em>
  <span>, odd points of pressure bleeding up from his temples, traveling up the slope of his skull and </span>
  <em>
    <span>growing</span>
  </em>
  <span>; </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurt, Bulda wailed from the pain ringing through his skull, hands dragging up through the blistering ooze of his belly to grab at his throbbing head. He gasped for break, teeth gnashing hard enough to chip; his teeth bashed up over his lips, bigger in his mouth, jaw hurting dimly at the huge protrusions through his gums. His tongue felt over the bleeding gums, licking away the blood, tasting iron and the salt of Serces’ load. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still going</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the thud of his pumping load felt against Bulda’s skin, far away from just how many layers had caked up over him. He must’ve looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>absurd</span>
  </em>
  <span>, drenched from head to toe in the devil’s jizz, an off-white </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his features lost under every new wash of Serces’ orgasm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gods above, his head </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda’s hands clenched his skull, groaning under the smothering sludge, thighs rubbing hard together to </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get himself off- he couldn’t focus on finding his orgasm, as much as he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> to, but the splitting pain in his head was too distracting. He threw his head back into the sand, feeling more akin to </span>
  <em>
    <span>quicksand</span>
  </em>
  <span>, several inches deep with the hot issue of his company. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s fingers scrubbed over his scalp, fingertips dragging gaping tracks through the gummy sludge, gasping and </span>
  <em>
    <span>choking</span>
  </em>
  <span> on a searing wad of jizz when his digits nicked swollen bumps over his head. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembled</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the second-short contact, running like a bolt of lightning through his nerves, loins feeling the buzz of </span>
  <em>
    <span>not-quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>pain and jumping over his gritty belly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stroked over the bumps again, bracing himself for the sucker punch of lights that exploded behind his stinging eyelids. Bulda </span>
  <em>
    <span>wheezed</span>
  </em>
  <span> between his clenched teeth as he kept up his gentle knead of the knobby growths, mounds swelling with each throb of his skull,</span>
  <em>
    <span> busting</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a hot pang of relief and dull pain. Bulda’s fingers squeezed the exposed growths, back arching away from the silty earth, palms filled with hard bone, slick with his sizzling blood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Realizing he had horns came a little later, even though he’d been lazily fondling them while Serces shot his load, still squirming as heat sunk into his every joint. He was sweltering, skin feeling ready to peel away from his bones under the piling jizz, fingers dragging through his matted curls as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>yowled</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the burn. His mouth was an oozing wreck, stringy ropes hanging between his lips, rippling with his ragged huffs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stop eventually, as unrealistic as it felt in the moment- in the back of his mind, Bulda recalled the devil’s warning. The puddle was a few feet in diameter, now, Bulda’s feet stretched out and not feeling the edge of the mess. Bulda could do little beyond breath through the splattering load, the groans of the devil muffled through the jizz that’d run into his ears, thick as plugs in his heavy head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“</span><b><em>Unnnfff</em></b><span>, </span><b>fff</b><b><em>fuck.</em></b> <em><span>Hmmf…!</span></em><span>” Bulda’s couldn’t feel if the devil had finally come to a stop, still feeling the leaden weight of his hot ooze over his belly, and his obscene sounds weren’t much of a tell. “</span><em><span>Whew</span></em><span>…’bout time you got me off, runt.” Bulda felt a rough jab to his side, the pointed edge of a massive toe nearly rolling him over. “Heh, you still </span><em><span>alive</span></em><span>, puny?”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s gluey features cracked open, mouth pulling through the slimy wreckage to groan weakly. Serces chuffed, sounding all too pleased. “Hey, get up. ‘M not done with you, runt.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda bubbled through the film over his nose, sucking a hard breath through his leaking teeth, jaw still sore from where his tucks jutted past his lips. A pang of concern played in his blood, combatting the white-hot desire that crawled up his spine, taking in his new...bits. He didn’t feel right, not particularly</span>
  <em>
    <span> himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d changed, yes, and he worried about how excited that made him. His cock bounced up his stomach, knocking at the low shelf of his pecs, spitting a hot rope over his chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda shivered under the thick sheet of ooze, taking a hand and slicking it down his elbows, feeling the air hit his skin for the first time in...however long it took Serces to stop cumming. His fingers felt pruny, it had to be a while. Bulda dragged his fingers over his face, peeling thick cords away from his eyes, blinking into the searing sun and squinting through strings of jizz. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s face was still a mess, hair splattered flat to his scalp, his new curvy horns splitting out the top of his head. They were ridged from the stretched base of flushed maroon skin, dark as blood to their rusted tips. Bulda’s blurry gaze wandered to his hands, brown intermingled with a burnt crimson in long patches. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>itched</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kept </span>
  </em>
  <span>itching even when Bulda raked his fingers over the worst of it, watching his skin rise in stinging whelps at his sharp digits. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda clenched his fist, watching his </span>
  <em>
    <span>claws</span>
  </em>
  <span> splay over his palm, nails growing into his fingers, a solid digit of flushing bone and muscle. Bulda stabbed a hand into the quicksand, pulling himself up from the puddle of lukewarm jizz, a runny cascade of the sludge falling back into the mire. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>, oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>my-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda stuttered, voice sounding odd to his own ears; deeper in his throat, words curling around his unfamiliar tusks. His cock bounced against his pecs, far bigger than they’d ever been, swollen huge on his frame- beneath his notice, his hips rocked against them, Bulda breaking into a gasp at the roll of pressure over his quivering cockhead. “I’m- Gods, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>bigger.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Huge, even; his cock was a gargantuan thing between his legs, curving over his belly in a thick arc of flesh, and it would’ve been ridiculous had his frame not warped to fit it. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>taller</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his pants several sizes too size over his barrel-thick thighs, tearing to dregs with the twitch of his lower half. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda whined lowly, hands dragging down his long shaft, hands stretching to cup his nuts, filling his wide palms and then some. He pressed his fingers into the lumps, eyes rolling in his skull, hips bucking into his hands, cock firing a hard rope up his chin. It merged into the gunk over his skin, sizzling dregs dribbling from his bubbling cockslit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wet </span>
  <em>
    <span>shuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>of movement pulled his eyes away from his spewing endowment, Bulda’s throat bobbing and swallowing down a watery wad of gunk, his cock throbbing hard at the sight of Serces nestled back over the sand; his hands were barely enough to properly stroke off his titanic fucker, even with how impossibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive </span>
  </em>
  <span>Serces had grown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beads that’d been around his neck were gone, Bulda catching their dull spheres off in the sand, burst away from the devil. The bracers around his band had gone the same way, buried under the puddles of Serces’ load, sticking up from the sinking piles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ thighs were mountainous, knees pressed into the sand, humping towards Bulda, a wicked grin over his wide lips. “Feels</span>
  <b>
    <em> good</em>
  </b>
  <span>, huh?” Serces’ tone was grating, rough with the grunts his groping got out of him. “Got pretty </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span>, don’tcha think?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda shivered at the sound of the devil’s voice, heart beating hot in his chest, feeling ready to melt through his ribs, stretching wide around his billowing lungs. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bulda’s cock spat, hard, a solid rope over the sand, and as if a blockage had been cleared, his cock just belched a watery flow. “So</span>
  <em>
    <span> good</span>
  </em>
  <span>,</span>
  <em>
    <span> ff</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck!</em>
  </b>
  <span>” Bulda’s hips twitched, bucked hard, nuts in his hands squeezed tight, a hard jolt lancing a long spurt up his legs. The skin of his thighs had turned spotted, svelte and maroon in its burning flush, brown of his skin merging into the fuzzy patterns. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this, ah-” Bulda licked his lips, not feeling as dry. In fact, his thirst was gone, tongue running wetly over his shedding lips. “Permanent?” There was a sinking feeling in his gut at Serces’ grin, the knowing glint in his crimson eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dunno, maybe.” Serces snickered, hips angling up, cock bloating huge in his grip, a soaking spray launching through the air. Bulda felt it splatter over his skin, burning hot and fast through his skin, eyes stuck together again and sizzling along his lips. Bulda sputtered, sucking in the slime, groaning around the scalding ooze, swallowing it through the choking spasms of his throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get over here, runt. Try to get me to cum again,” Serces ordered, his cock giving another throb, raining down another salvo of slime. “I wanna see how messed up you can get this time.” He never stopped stroking himself over, lip bending as Serces sneered, eyes falling shut, hips rolling forward with a gush over his claws.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s head felt split open, burning up from the inside out, a starving ache deep in his guts at Serces’ cock. His lips were tasted over by his minutely longer tongue, tip feeling split, forked and sensitive where his tusks jabbed into it. Bulda snorted hard, blowing a bubbly mess over his lips, dragging his sandy talons over the semi-solid chunks, flicking it into the slip. Bulda gasped for breath, shuffling through the gritty sand on his hands and knees, cock bobbing against his belly, heart in his throat as he crept into the space between Serces’ legs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s tongue lashed over his tusks as the heat radiating off the devil sunk into his skin, warming through his cheeks, reaching up from the sand to grab hold of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavy </span>
  </em>
  <span>monster. Bulda’s knees dug forward, nudging into the pulsating mound of Serces’ nuts, a growl rumbling through his bulk. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnnf,</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurry up, runt. I’m fuckin’ ready to blow again,” Serces’ huge claw opened up, sweeping over Bulda’s side, shoving him into the sloppy mess. “</span>
  <b>
    <em>Fuck,</em>
  </b>
  <span> it’s bigger than </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, runt.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda moaned into the underside of Serces’ cock, face buried in the milky slip washing down the shaft, matting his hair all over again. He could</span>
  <em>
    <span> hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the steady </span>
  <em>
    <span>pump-pump</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Serces’ issue up his shaft, feeling the meaty tube swell, grow hot enough to sting his cheek. Bulda closed his eyes as the ooze fell over his forehead, eyes squinting shut as the thick gunk dripped over his nose, mouth open and whining at the pleasant heat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His skin drank in the heat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span> for it, blood not as boiling as it’d been. The desert air felt pitifully cold compared to the heat pouring off of Serces, his body yearning for it, mashing his face into the spongy flesh- fuck, he wanted the devil’s load again, wanted to feel himself</span>
  <em>
    <span> change </span>
  </em>
  <span>again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s feet pushed against the sand, arms holding tight around the mammoth prick, muscular chest flexing hard as he rubbed his torso up and down the devil’s cock. His arms bulged with strength, stretching wide around the shaft, hands nowhere close to meeting; it was impossible with how the prick kept </span>
  <em>
    <span>growing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the thumping beat of the devil’s blood swelling it larger, Serces’ grip along the colossal root all that saved Bulda from being smothered by it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s arms </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>, veins standing out against his crackling skin, the heat burning off from his exertion drying the piling ooze on his shoulders. It was fucking exhausting jerking off a cock bigger than he was, and he wasn’t even sure it was doing much for the devil; his cock had been receptive, at least, drenching him over and over in waves of his pearly issue, draining fast enough to keep Bulda’s wheezes through his teeth to the minimum. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s hands peeled further up the shaft, hands taking hold of the too-hot skin of Serces’ cock head, pulling his knees up from the sand, squeezing as much of the broad head as he could. Serces’ hips bucked, a moan kicked out of the devil, Bulda thrown off balance by the jerk of flesh. His arms tightened around the flaring cockhead, eyes shut and wadded shut by the pissing load over his face. His horns burned where they stuck out of his head, Bulda’s vision filled with sparks again, filling his scalp grow bumpy under the continuous spill of Serces’ issue.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ finger slipped behind the tainted human’s head, forcing his face up against his cockhead, a nasty snicker booming from the devil’s chest. “Get your face in it, ‘m gonna cum soon.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda blubbered against the cockhead, pearly ooze running in rivers over his face, thick and plentiful and suffocating; even as his lungs burned in his chest, Bulda leaned into the throbbing flesh, tongue swiping up against the spitting slit. His lips</span>
  <em>
    <span> burned</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the next explosive spurt, pressure smacking in wads over his cheeks, ear plugged up again and hearing through a sluggish film. Bulda’s mouth was filled again as he tried to kiss over the cockslit, ooze running down his chin, nose snorting and blowing out with viscous strings of fiery mucus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ nuts pressed hard against Bulda’s shins, seizing hard and pumping up another wash of the devil’s load. Bulda gasped, sputtered into a cry when the new bumps on his head burst open, bone ripping through the craggy flesh and hardening in the air. Bulda’s claws were bigger, tips more jagged, cutting through the slime over Serces’ cock with ease, kissing against it hard- his jaw gave a distracting pang of pressure up in the joints, his tusks feeling faintly larger, rutting up over the red flesh smoothly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shifting human’s neck was warmed by Serces’ fingers curling behind his head again, pressing the shifting human’s face right against his bubbling cocksilt, a long groan tearing through the air as the cock spurted hard over Bulda’s cheeks- erupting in a watery flow the next moment, spraying over Bulda in choppy waves, each harsh pump dragging on for seconds at a time, an unreal amount of the devil’s seed spilling over Bulda’s head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s skin felt like it was coming off, endless heat burning through his skin, growing to consume him entirely- he shivered, skin too wet from jizz to know if he was sweating, if he even could. His ribs bent around his lungs, stretching out his belly with his desperate huffs, arms crackling like kindling when he reached to hug Serces’ cock closer to his front. His head craned back, squeezing his eyes shut at the heavy roll of pre, dribbling off the hardened edge of his horns, his newest pair still spongy and stinging from the heat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces held him close to his spewing cockhead, Bulda giving up on trying to breath through the spurts, holding his throat closed and kissing through the bruising gushes over his face. His teeth got in the way of kissing into the oozing silt, tusks almost unwieldy around his lips, peeling enamel flaking off like ashes from their gradual growth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“</span><em><span>Ff</span></em><b><em>fuck,</em></b> <b><em>fuck!</em></b><span>” It was a crude mantra of Serces’, one Bulda only just managed to hear, senses flooded over with the film of his ooze, laying heavy over his skin, flushing hot under the crackling mess. Bulda let his eyes close, letting his mind drift off on the sensation of thick ropes splattering over him, horns branching out from his skull, bones cracking and stretching on their own. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ cock felt like a second heartbeat against Bulda’s torso, the former human panting against the mammoth shaft- his claws hooked through the caking sludge, dropping down his sides, hard jut of his digits resting over his own thighs. His cock jammed up against Serces’, oozing white in dripping slugs, his load mingled into the wreck running down his legs. He couldn’t remember when he’d come, it’d felt secondary in the moment. His hands wrapped around his shaft, and it only took one, two pumps until his balls were knocking over his knuckles, load spraying out over his darkly furred belly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that was a good one,” Serces muttered, letting his grip around his cock loosen, watching with a sneer as Bulda’s legs buckled, moaning as he was pressed into the sand from the sheer weight of it. “You look fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>, runt." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Slowly, much to the groaning distress of Bulda, the devil let his cock slack in his grip, the shifted artist bearing its immense weight. “You look, like...me.” Saved from being smothered under the shaft when Serces gripped it all over again, giving it a long stroke, opaque bubbles smearing between his claws. “If I was fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>puny.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s hands were frantic, raking over the enormous swell of Serces’ nuts, hands warmed to the bone from the heat burning off the red flesh. He grit his teeth, brow twitching hard with the throb of</span>
  <em>
    <span> pain</span>
  </em>
  <span> that shot through his skull- horns crackling again, growing heavier where they stuck out from his scalp. His hips bucked, balls lurching in his fuzzy sack, rust-red hair prickling up from his taut skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He needed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>cum</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or make Serces cum again, or-</span>
  <em>
    <span> something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he just wanted </span>
  <b>
    <em>more,</em>
  </b>
  <span> vaguely, </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperately.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bulda swallowed again Serces’ bloating cock, kissing up the fat underside, closing his eyes and blubbering when a thick sheet of slime dripped over his face. The heat fed something under Bulda’s skin, yearning and insatiable, drinking in the endless spill of Serces, belly growing hotter by the mouthful. His arms rose high above his head to wrap around the devil’s cock, the shallow thrust of his torso letting him stroke it with his entire torso, legs too weak to bring himself to stand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was working, at least; Serces was stroking what Bulda couldn’t; his claws wrapped around the girth, monstrous in length, longer than Bulda stood tall, webbed over with pulsating veins. Bulda’s arms grew further apart with every half-stroke, longer limbs coming up short around the devil’s girth. His biceps </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, forearms knotted up with cramps, a pained groan coming from his stuffed mouth. His face </span>
  <em>
    <span>stung</span>
  </em>
  <span> all over again, peachy salt seeping into the open silvers in his skin, holding his breath and squeezing tight around Serces’ prick as a wash of slime rolled overhead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ voice drew into a tight hiss, claws shucking over his cock coming to a stop, huge digits twitching over the spewing head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ff</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck</em>
  </b>
  <span>, ‘m</span>
  <em>
    <span> gonna-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  Serces’ hulking frame trembled, hips thrusting and locking up, head thrown back with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>roar</span>
  </em>
  <span>- cock bursting out below, raining down in gloopy wads over the sand, sizzling down Bulda’s back in heavy rivets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s lungs </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, gasping through the thick mess dribbling down his lungs. He slipped a hand away from Serces’ prick, digging past the swell of the devil’s balls to find his own weeping cock- hard as ever, balls feeling stuffed, heavy like weight against his groin. Bulda</span>
  <em>
    <span> whined</span>
  </em>
  <span>, humping into Serces’ nuts, harder when his cock stiffened and gushed, pressure in his loins relieved for an instant. The need came back </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a winding </span>
  <em>
    <span>twinge </span>
  </em>
  <span>coming from deep within the swollen orbs, hand feeling along their distorted shape with a shiver. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda sobbed into Serces’ nuts, senses on </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, body feeling ready to burst at the seams- he was changing again, heat dipping past his darker skin, wrapping around his bones and searing; Bulda’s rasping breath split his ribs wide, bone warping like heated glass, breathing deeper as the whining creak of his bones grew louder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s skull gave a smarting tremble, felt all the way to the tips of his horns, leaving him with stars in his eyes and heat smothering his skin. The burn in his chest was gone, and he couldn’t even feel his head anymore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, wake up. ‘M not finished yet, runt.” A rough jab to his chest sent him hurtling back to consciousness, Bulda’s eyes blinking through the bubbling mess dripping off his face, cock a wobbling rod between his legs, spitting ropes of whites into the gunk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda realized he was on his back again, staring up at Serces, vision swallowed up by the hulk’s upper half. Bulda’s cock throbbed down to his hips, whacking over his heaving chest, guts burning hot at being so close to the swollen muscle. “How- Gods above, you’re</span>
  <em>
    <span> huge.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It came out winded, awed and weary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hardly saw the devil’s delighted smirk past the eclipsing mounds of his chest; just one heaving pec was broader than Bulda’s shoulders across, muscle overgrown and looking cumbersome. “Fuck, </span>
  <b>
    <em>yeah,</em>
  </b>
  <span>” Serces’ voice came as a low thunder, Bulda feeling it up to his horns. The devil dragged a hand over his abs, a sticky trail smearing through the thicket of hair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unf,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you fuckin’ </span>
  <b>
    <em>love</em>
  </b>
  <span> seein’ me like this, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Bulda’s cock answered for him, swinging up in a flexing arc, smacking against his chest with a splash of jizz over the sand. “</span><em><span>Y-yes,</span></em><span> Gods, </span><em><span>I-I</span></em> <em><span>do.</span></em><span>” A blazing flush swept over Bulda's chest, hands wrapping around the bulging curve of his cock, giving himself a slow stroke that pulled a sobbing cry out of the demi-human; his hands felt stuck to his shaft, the sensation crashing over his nerves too intense, mind awash in the crest of pain and pleasure. It was addictive, Bulda's hands working up his prick of their own needy accord, crying through the massive ropes he shot up his face. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You-y-</span>
  </em>
  <span>you're so-" Bulda's tusks </span>
  <em>
    <span>clicked</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his jaw, clenching tight with a moan gritting through his flaking teeth.</span>
  <b>
    <em> “Big!”</em>
  </b>
  <span> His hips snapped up, clawed toes dragging through the silt, a winded gasp breaking over his lips as his cock spat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gushed</span>
  </em>
  <span> in white ropes. His nuts felt like stones, pulled tight to his cock and steadily churning, the packed feeling not ebbing even as he sprayed his load by the cup. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An obscene </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack</span>
  </em>
  <span> of wet flesh pounded below his vision, Bulda’s eyes stuck on the perky mounds swelling closer to his face, Serces’ low chuckle rippling through his bloated pecs. “Fuck, </span>
  <b>
    <em>yeah</em>
  </b>
  <span>, ‘m</span>
  <em>
    <span> so</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuckin’ </span>
  <b>
    <em>big </em>
  </b>
  <span>now.” Bulda felt wetness soak up his legs, groaning from the heat of the splash, his own pleasure found as his hands stroked over himself. His vision went white, his orgasm striking a flame through his superheated veins, head rolling through the wet sand with a wail.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>looks like ‘m rubbin’ off on you, runt.” Serces muttered, then moved abruptly, sand shifting from the immense weight of him over the dunes. Bulda was still blinking away spots when he felt his lower half be crushed under a heavy,</span>
  <em>
    <span> churning</span>
  </em>
  <span> weight, his glance downward all but </span>
  <em>
    <span>shoving</span>
  </em>
  <span> his face into the devil’s cockhead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>squinted </span>
  </em>
  <span>hard, cock leaping in his smothered lap at the sight of the massive thing; just the oozing slit stretched </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> above his face, soaking him with every heaving </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulse </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his loins, smacking up against his face and spilling</span>
  <em>
    <span> gallons </span>
  </em>
  <span>of milky issue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His arms scrambled to grab it, to convince himself it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real- </span>
  </em>
  <span>his hands felt along smouldering flesh, giving and thickly skinned, claws nowhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span> to meeting around the monstrous head. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>gasped</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the silt, yawning around his nose, a gummy wad of pre beading up and bursting over his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces gave a bone-rattling</span>
  <em>
    <span> snarl</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the air, rocking his hips into Bulda’s face, draining silt stretching over the demi-human’s features, sheer weight of his shaft keeping him there. Jizz puddled around Bulda’s shoulders, long, massive cords of slime dripping past his chest, a new wash of slime with every shallow thrust. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“</span><b><em>Unf, </em></b><em><span>way</span></em><span> bigger than you now, huh?” Bulda sputtered into the tight folds, jizz spilling over his face, Serces’ hips rolling with an implacable force, sinking the demi-human’s head until his nubby horns stopped him. “</span><em><span>Ff</span></em><b><em>fuck</em></b><em><span>,</span></em> <em><span>whoops.</span></em><span>” Serces gazed down, eyes low with the haze of his afterglow, claws slipping around Bulda’s neck and</span><em><span> popping</span></em><span> him out of his gaping cocksilt. A pent-up cascade of issue spilled down Bulda’s front, the horned man gasping for breath, face flushed almost plum. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heh, you’re kinda fun, runt.” Bulda groaned, face hot and eyes stinging from the sheet of jizz over his features. Even sightless, the immensity of Serces was pronounced; the slide of the devil’s fingers around his neck felt like strong arms, looping around his shoulders and </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Too bad you’re so fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>small</span>
  </em>
  <span>, can’t even have fun with you without</span>
  <b>
    <em> breakin’</em>
  </b>
  <span> you.” The ground left from underneath his feet as Serces plucked him from the sand, Bulda’s breath forced out of him in the devil’s grip, eye-level with the red skinned giant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A rough smear of giant fingers wiped at his face, Bulda staring dizzily ahead, a fluttering heat building in his loins at Serces’ smug grin. “Bet you’d like that shit, huh?” The devil’s breath rolled like a scalding mist over him, Serces’ tongue slipping over his lips, sneering at his wrecked captive. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnf.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Be so fuckin’ </span>
  <b>
    <em>easy.</em>
  </b>
  <span>”  The devil’s grip tightened over his Bulda’s torso, squeezing the shallow breath from his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>stung</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the warbling air, heat pouring up from Serces like a flameless furnace; heat waves distorted his vision even worse than it was, Bulda blinking hard through the budding tears in his eyes, bubbling along his eyelids and skipping off his cheeks to sizzle over his chest. Serces’ hands wrapped around him like a vice, inescapable and burning hot, a scalding cloud of breath wafting over the demi-human’s skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I could</span>
  <em>
    <span> crush </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, runt…” The threat rolled over Bulda’s darkening flesh, Serces huffing up over the mottled skin, tongue lashing out and curling over Bulda’s collar; the organ was blazing-hot, slick all over and squirming up Bulda’s neck, around his ears, up over his hair- he was slathered in choppy waves of molten spit by the time Serces drew him closer, huge skull pressed up against Bulda’s belly, drooling burning trails down his front. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ tongue writhed back over Bulda’s shoulders, skin left crackling, fraying wide with the drying trails of saliva. “You don’t taste too bad, runt…” Serces huffed, dragging his tongue along Bulda’s front, pinning the demi-human’s cock to his belly, tasting the salty spray of his load as the man shook under him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slowly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, slower, Serces’ tongue squirming like mad over the throbbing prick- Bulda </span>
  <em>
    <span>cried</span>
  </em>
  <span> out, hands uselessly pinned at his sides, just sobbing into the acrid, shimmering air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sopping trail of heat dripped down his front, Bulda’s jaw clenching up in time with the spasm of his orgasm, hips rocking with shallow thrusts into the thick flesh of Serces’ tongue. The devil was insatiable, or perhaps just cruel, working his massive organ over Bulda’s skin, rubbing in the slick of his issue over his bushy hair. By the time Bulda could think clearly again, jizz was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sliding</span>
  </em>
  <span> off him; it was worse between his legs, cords of slime hanging between the bloated swell of his legs, snapping away and rolling over the sand below. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s pecs </span>
  <em>
    <span>dripped </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the thick film of his issue, jizz plastering his hair to his belly, blooming tufts of marron smeared across his chest- the demi-human </span>
  <em>
    <span>wailed</span>
  </em>
  <span> under the fiery licks over his torso, scalding spit working into his skin as a frothing slurry. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, fuck, fuck-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It was a breathless mantra, one the demi-human </span>
  <em>
    <span>howled</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of, hips snapping up to the quivering plane of Serces’ mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The huge muscle curled up Bulda’s pecs, squeezing up around his chin, the demi-human’s face buried under the rippling folds. The darting tip crept up his skin, butting around Bulda’s cheeks, dimpling over the yawning kiss of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was like sucking on a hot </span>
  <em>
    <span>coal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too-hot and </span>
  <em>
    <span>smothering</span>
  </em>
  <span>, lips stretching absurdly as the muscle struggled, squirmed to fit. Drool, his and distinctly</span>
  <em>
    <span> not</span>
  </em>
  <span>, spilled down his face, down his </span>
  <em>
    <span>throat</span>
  </em>
  <span> in flushing gulps of heat. His stomach </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, swimming already with the bubbling slick, Serces’ tongue wet as ever and dousing him in the hot fluid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>seared</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the inside out, a living poker that </span>
  <em>
    <span>busted</span>
  </em>
  <span> past the tense, undulating tunnel of throat, probing deep into the flexing folds. Bulda’s jaw felt</span>
  <em>
    <span> cracked</span>
  </em>
  <span> open, lips distorted around the tip of Serces’ tongue; he’d barely managed</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much of it and felt ready to split from the pressure, a hollow relief from the strain coming from the organ finally pulling out; his throat closed like a vice around the retreating muscle, Bulda’s breath stopped up inside his chest, head feeling all too</span>
  <em>
    <span> light- </span>
  </em>
  <span>the </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the devil’s tongue freeing from his mouth came with his desperate gulp of air, coming out </span>
  <em>
    <span>strangled. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Swallowing</span>
  <em>
    <span> hurt, </span>
  </em>
  <span>tasting more of Serces’ spit than his own, stomach rolling hard with his thirsting gulps. His body was steadily changing, the sensation of fullness already gone, belly soured with the devil’s spittle. Bulda felt the clench of heat around his bones, sweat beading up over his skin, mouth opening and crying out with a ragged </span>
  <em>
    <span>gurgle.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking was beyond him at the moment, a hot lick of pain running from lips to mid-chest, throat stretched and feeling frayed; Bulda’s gulps were useless, struggling to breathe through the churned up slick clogging his sinuses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ tongue worked like a lash up Bulda’s belly, a sharp groan knocked out of the demi-human. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnf.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You taste funny,” Serces muttered, tongue running over his teeth, peering over Bulda’s dazed face. “Bet you wanna get another taste of</span>
  <b>
    <em> me</em>
  </b>
  <span>, huh?” A wicked glint showed in the devil’s eyes, licking over his lips, a rumble low and thundering in his swollen chest. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you do. Don’tcha, </span>
  <b>
    <em>runt?</em>
  </b>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda’s waist stung hotly with the unkind clench of Serces’ fist, air whipping around the demi-human’s head as he was suddenly flung into the devil’s meaty bosom; Bulda sputtered and whined at the searing flex of muscle that crowded around his face- he dimly realized he’d been stuck up the split of the devil’s chest, colossal slabs of flesh clenching </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight</span>
  </em>
  <span> against his shoulders, face buried in the enormous tuff of gold that filled the split. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda's head </span>
  <em>
    <span>buzzed</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the snickering rumble that rose up behind the devil's ribs, a pressure on his back - a wide hand - </span>
  <em>
    <span>smushing</span>
  </em>
  <span> him into the meaty crevasse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oops, did that </span>
  <b>
    <em>squish</em>
  </b>
  <span> ya?" Bulda's face couldn't get any</span>
  <em>
    <span> hotter,</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet the giant's remark went straight through to the demi-human's loins; his belly felt wet and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sizzling</span>
  </em>
  <span> at once, cock shooting a mess of his tainted load through the bush of gold. "How's </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, huh? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnf. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck, my pecs are so fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Serces' lips twisted around his tusks, his jaw going taut- tendons in his neck going rigid, veins sprouting then </span>
  <em>
    <span>swelling</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the quivering mounds of his shoulders. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fff</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck</em>
  </b>
  <span>, ya feel that, runt?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda whined, high in his throat and sounding every bit as pained as his skin felt; the devil’s sweat kept soaking him, sizzling heat wrapped around Bulda’s bones, needy gasps filling his lungs with choking musk. Bulda’s shoulders felt compressed, Serces’ muscular pecs squeezing around him, the dense folds of muscle swelling with each pulse of the devil’s blood. Bulda’s cock spat again, heat swimming low in his belly, balls seizing up against his throbbing shaft, a dripping slime leaking past his spewing sex. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The weight of Serces’ chest was immobilizing, a mountain of heat Bulda couldn’t escape, not when the devil’s palm smashed him further into the growing divide. A shudder, swift and molten, swept through Bulda’s loins, a hot furl of euphoria growing between his hips, the demi-human’s eyes rolling with a muffled growl from his stinging lips. His orgasm </span>
  <em>
    <span>crashed</span>
  </em>
  <span> into him, impossible heat building under his slick skin, heat between his body and his captor too hot to let wetness stay for more than an instant; Serces felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>boiling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Bulda felt ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>combust</span>
  </em>
  <span>, white-hot heat and pleasure blackening his bones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d barely began to catch his breath before the devil’s palm came down heavily on his back, a creak of warping bone buried beneath the brutal </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack</span>
  </em>
  <span>- Bulda gasped, throat still too swollen, licked by fire to steal more than a gasp. Bulda’s vision blurred, unsure if he’d closed them or if he’d simply blacked out, senses scattered by the lead weight of Serces’ hand. He felt very much wedged between the devil’s chest, grateful for the breath he was allowed when that massive palm finally left him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gravity shifted as the giant leaned back, meeting the ground with a bone-jarring </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bulda’s head spinning from the resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>quake </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the devil’s chest; Bulda expected the tremor to stop, muscle to soak up the force, yet the enormous mounds continued to sway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnh,</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em> fuck</em>
  </b>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>G-</span>
  </em>
  <span>getting so fuckin’</span>
  <em>
    <span> big,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Serces’ voice was thick with his lust, pleasure making his tough accent a fearsome growl Bulda could feel down to his bones. His world never stopped moving, not when the devil took his own chest in hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezing</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard enough to</span>
  <em>
    <span> swell</span>
  </em>
  <span> the steaming crevasse. Those fingertips rose higher, claws raking through the golden hair, turned flaxen with the drip of his profuse sweat. Cupping his chest, surging, swollen meat peeling his fingers apart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda felt another </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud </span>
  </em>
  <span>as the giant’s head fell against the sand, his hands busy fondling his overdeveloped chest, each pulse of his heart feeding unnatural size onto his frame. Serces’ skin was like the sun’s heat without the distance saving him from being roasted alive, there was only the burn that left his muscles limp, rubbery and buried under tons of growing flesh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Heaving for breath, Bulda couldn’t tell if he’d come again with how much fiery ecstasy ran in his vein, the pressure behind his skull rising with his red-hot fever, his head felt light from the flood of sensation. He noticed the squeeze behind his neck, shoulders coming loose from his fleshy prison, a red smear in his sight- Bulda blinked, remembering to breathe when his lungs burned for air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Serces’ expression was one of filthy delight, eyes dark and contracted into the most peculiar shape; star-like, enrapturing, as much as the toothy grin the devil wore. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> runt,” Serces’ grip held Bulda like a toy, dragging him up out the messy split of the devil’s pecs, closer to his razor-like maw. “You’re pretty fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>, think I might keep you…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bulda gulped, swallowing hard on spit, heart pounding out of his chest at the look Serces fixed him with, the tightening hold around his middle. “Hey,” Serces grunted, snatching him closer, Bulda watching the slippery spike of the devil’s tongue slip over his teeth. “C’mere, I wanna see somethin’...” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wet organ rose up Bulda’s chest, dragging through the dried and flaking crackle of jizz, the massive tip pressing against his lips, a choked cry giving the devil enough room to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shove</span>
  </em>
  <span> in deep. Bulda gagged, throat spasming around the wide intrusion, eyes growing wide and teary at the relentless wiggling; Serces felt as determined as ever to wreck his mouth, mingling spit running down his chin, beading up and rolling sticky along his front.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Darkness crept in on the edge of Bulda’s vision, the heat of his skin, boiling blood getting pushed to the back of his mind- he couldn’t remember fainting, only seeing Serces’ flushed face until he realized he was staring into nothingness, floating in it. As much as it was a release from the moment, Bulda felt an inkling of disappointment; Serces was a remarkable specimen, and their encounter was…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gods above, Bulda hoped he’d still be around once came to. He’d like to see just how big he could get the</span>
  <em>
    <span> second </span>
  </em>
  <span>time around.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wanna gag i wanna choke i want you to touch that lil dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat</p></blockquote></div></div>
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